Indescribable
by little norse warrior
Summary: DISCONTINUED. She could hear the voices again. He began to mimic. Her voice gained a purpose. He learned how to see. She regained her Voice. He reminded her to listen. Those who'd scorned them were in for a brutal surprise. Can they weather the storm?
1. Interlude: Pounce

First things first: **This is a sequel. Please, please, please go read Incredible first, otherwise you will be so morbidly confused that it won't even be funny. (Not that regular confusion is funny, but still.)**

**Blanket Disclaimer:**** I'm not James Patterson. You know this, I know this. I'll never BE him (considering I'm a **_**girl**_**, for one). Thus, I'll never own the Maximum Ride series (much to my dismay). All of the wonderful canon characters that you see do not belong to me. HOWEVER, I do own the plot and every of the OC's, save the few that were given to me by readers. (I'll point those out when they come into play, though.)**

Hey there everyone! It's been too long. This won't ever happen again, I swear. I never meant for the re-vamp of Incredible to take as long as it did.

But enough about that, let me give you a VERY quick run-down of how everything is going to work for this story:

As you know, I started up a **Cookie Contest ™** for Incredible. Guess what? I'm doing one for this story, too! Only, instead of cookies, I'll be baking _mounds_ of… *drum roll* muffins! *pulls out example tray* The rules are the same as they were for the cookie contest, which are as follows:

**1:** You earn one muffin for every review, author/story alert, and author/story favorite.

**2:** Here's the deal. The LOWEST POSSIBLE amount of muffins you can earn per review is one. For _good_ reviews, where you give me _good_ feedback and tell me what you liked or what you didn't and/or make me smile in general, you will earn MORE muffins. It's that simple.

**3:** For every person you tell about Incredibly Indescribable that reviews and gives me your username, both of you get 5 muffins.

**4:** If you comply to the strange requests within my Author's Notes, you'll earn the number of muffins I assign for that particular request.

**5:** If you reach 100 muffins, I'll give you a sneak peek of a future chapter (because I pre-write

everything).

Now, because the random facts were so popular with Incredible, we're going to do something different for Indescribable. If you've read through Incredible (which I strongly recommend, as I've edited every chapter), you'll notice that I've added a theme song to each chapter. In conjunction with that, I will be taking any and all **SONG TITLES **you give me for this story. I will only accept **2** songs per review, but each one will be worth up to **5** muffins. To earn all five muffins, you must tell me the **Song Title**, the **Artist**, any **Lyrics** that pertain to my chapterly theme (I'll give you the type of song I'm looking for each chapter), and a good reason **why** it fits in with that theme. (Why you like it or what about it fits my question.)

And instead of posting the current contest participants every chapter, I'll just display the top three, and the official standings will be up on my profile.

This will be my fist and last major A/N for this entire story, I promise. They'll be nice and short for the remainder of this trilogy.

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**Thanks to e-bubble97 for this idea:**

**A summary of **_**Incredible**_**, for my readers who have forgotten (This is why I want you to read it first, my new readers!):**

Two years ago, the flock was split up. Their memories were erased, and their wings were taken away. Now, over the week-long Thanksgiving holiday, six former bird-kids are all travelling to the same place: Dallas, Texas. Over the course of the next six days, the flock has to overcome obstacle after obstacle as they try to reunite and regain their memories.

The first to be reunited are Angel, Gazzy, and Iggy, but they don't seem to remember each other. Max and Fang catch each other by an accidental phone call, but the call is dropped due to an oncoming storm. Nudge and Max are the next to meet when they both arrive in Dallas. Nudge has found a mysterious photograph that features all six of the flock—and do they really all have wings? Max then finds Angel, Gazzy, and Iggy, and they all head back to Iggy's 'home' while Nudge and Fang cross paths. Fang, eager to re-connect with Max, calls her up using Nudge's phone, but the conversation they have isn't a very pleasant one.

It isn't until that Thursday, at the Cowboys-Bears football game, that everything really takes off. Nudge bumps into Iggy at the game, and later Iggy collides with Fang—with a rather violent outcome. It isn't until after the game starts that Max sees Fang on the television and rushes over to Angel and Gazzy's 'house' to pick them up and rush them to the game.

Once at the stadium, Max splits off from the brother and sister and runs into none other than Fang. The two get into a fight that ends in them kissing—and finally regaining their memories. Max and Fang's kiss breaks through the barriers that were holding the rest of the flock's memories back, and Max's new flock of four rush to embrace their leader. Max realizes that Itex was the blame for all their problems, not Fang.

Just as everything seems wonderful and peachy, the bird-kids are interrupted by a surprise Eraser attack.

**Hopefully that helps a bit, even if the writing is rather, well, half-assed.**

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**The theme song for this chapter is "Take Me" by Papa Roach.**

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**Indescribable**

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Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

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**Interlude: Pounce**

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**Thursday, November 25****th****, 2010**

"_Max!_"

Angel's horrified shriek had me spinning from their arms, crouching into a fighting stance. I didn't know _what_ was coming, but I definitely _heard_ it when a roar split through the audience that had gathered around us. Though what I saw shove forward didn't click.

_What?_

They were supposed to be _gone_. We'd seen them get _retired_. Hell, I'd held my own _brother_ as he died! Don't you _even_ get me started on those two generations of awful replacements!

But all those improbabilities didn't stop those four Erasers from lunging forward, fully-morphed, with claws aimed straight for my throat.

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Not a whole lot to say after this, basically because it's the next chapter you all want to bad. :)

Go on, click the button and turn the figurative page!

Your faithful author,

Lea


	2. 01: Flock Bonding

**The theme song for this chapter is "Are You Ready?" by Three Days Grace.**

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**Indescribable**

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Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

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**Chapter One: Flock Bonding**

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_But all those improbabilities didn't stop those four Erasers from lunging forward, fully-morphed, with claws aimed straight for my throat._

**Thursday, November 25****th****, 2010**

It's really hard to admit this, but I was shocked stiff. I mean, last we'd heard, each and every Eraser that ever existed was _retired_, so seeing them show up trying to kill us was _way_ out of the ordinary.

An angry roar jarred us from our stupor, and just like that, the lead wolf-man was knocked off course by a flying ball of black cloth and black hair… _Fang?_

I shook my head as the second one came charging towards me. _Focus, idiot!_ I'm not sure who yelled that at me—myself, Angel, or the long-dormant Voice—but as soon as they did, I actually _could_. My good ol' friend adrenaline pumped through my system, and I tensed up, ready to tear that monster apart. When the Eraser flew at me, he was met with a strong snap kick to his chest. The thing barely even grunted, grabbing my arm and twisting hard. Tears sprang into my eyes, and I wasn't able to stop myself from whimpering a little. Because of this, he didn't expect me to go with the motion, twisting myself in mid-air to give him a quick double kick to, well, a place where the sun don't shine. _That_ brought the behemoth down, but I punched him squarely in the jaw for good measure, and after that he was out like a light.

A scream had me spinning around with bloodlust in my eyes. An Eraser—they were popping out of the crowd, damnit!—had grabbed Angel by the hair and raised her above the ground. She desperately clawed at its hands, actually gouging it but not doing any real damage. A quick scan of the recent area revealed that everyone else was busy. Iggy was deep into his own one-on-one battle, and Gazzy and Nudge were back to back, tackling three Erasers at once, my troopers. Fang was nowhere to be seen. While I could have spent the next century cussing him out, there were other things that needed my attention, namely Angel.

I raced forward to my baby, shrieking in outrage. At the last moment, I forced my feet out from under me and slid forward on the tile. _Look out!_ I thought to Angel hurriedly, and she was smart enough to swing her body out of the way as I took out the Eraser at the knees.

My plan wasn't very well-thought through, because that two-hundred pound Eraser body landed hard onto my chest and knocked the wind clean out of my lungs. Instinct had me shoving like a maniac to force the dead weight off of my body. Once I had done so, I sprang up to my feet only to feel a meaty, hot hand enclose around my throat.

"You think you can get away so easily, freak? You think we'll let you out of our sights again?" came its steamy, spitty breath into my ear. I struggled against the iron grip, trying to pry its fingers off of my neck. My lungs weren't burning yet, but they would be soon, and air was already hard to take in. I let out an involuntary gasp as I struggled just to _breathe_, damnit! The Eraser grabbed my right arm and pinned it behind my back, pressing hard. A strong ache shot through my shoulder like lightening, and I was forced to gasp out a precious lungful of air as it hardened. Then there was an awful _POP!_ and I screamed out as my shoulder exploded in burning pain.

Just as black spots began to pop up in the corners of my vision and I felt myself slipping… fading… something collided with my captor, and we went sprawling on the ground. I gasped like a fish, breathing in the sweet, fresh air and gingerly popped my freed shoulder into place. I rolled over slowly, rotating my arm slowly and half-cradling it in my left arm, to find Iggy kicking some serious Eraser ass. They were locked in a tight spar, exchanging each blow of kick for an even stronger one, but I was able to spring to my feet—without the use of my arms, thank you very much—and deliver a quick side kick to the base of its spine. The Eraser let out a groan of surprise before dropping like a stone.

"Thanks!" Iggy said with a grin, clipping his fallen enemy in the ear with the heel of his sneaker.

I beamed, too, still cradling my burning arm, about to thank him for getting the Eraser off of me in the first place when another of the hairy fridges lunged at him from behind. "DUCK!" I screamed, diving forward and forcing him down by the collar. The Eraser flew over our heads and I jabbed my fists upward in rapid secession, getting a few good licks to its face and its stomach before it tucked and rolled to a standing position behind us. Of course, then my shoulder was _aching_ in pain and I had to bite back the curses that were rising in my throat.

"Back-to-back!" I instructed to Ig, and we spun around, locking arms. _This is gonna hurt in the morning,_ I thought as he bent forward and swung me around with my legs sticking straight out. In that position, we were like a giant fan blade, and that Eraser didn't stand a chance when we came around to hit him in the stomach the first time, and in the head the second time after he had doubled over.

"Thanks, Ig," I said breathlessly as he set me down. I clasped his hand with my good arm, smiling. There were only a few Erasers left standing by now, the rest were out for the count, passed out on the floor around us. Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge were all back to back, taking on two Erasers amongst the three of them. As those odds were more than fair in our favor, I wasn't too worried about my flock. But Fang was still nowhere to be found… and that _really_ irked me.

Nudge gave her Eraser a good knee to the groin and he went down hard. "Hey, Nudge!" I called out to her. She flashed me a grin as she spun to chop the base of the guy's neck and punch him straight in the face. Behind her, Angel and Gazzy were also finishing up with their felled Eraser with a couple of well-placed kicks. "Where is Fang?" I asked the three of them. Each of their faces darkened, and I felt Iggy tense up beside me.

"I haven't seen him," Nudge said bitterly. She made to step over the Eraser at her feet, but her eyes widened and focused on something behind us. I spun around, ready to kick more Eraser butt, but what I saw had me freeze for a moment out of sheer disbelief. A very pissed-off Fang was over by the concession stand, three passed-out Eraser mounds at his feet. He was clenching his fists around the collar of a man; a man whom, upon closer inspection, I knew _very_ well.

"Jeb!" The name had blasted from my mouth, but a different shout had me freezing before I even had a chance to move.

"Security guards!" Angel shrieked. And just like that, the room was full of the shouts of men and woman with tasers. It also wasn't until then that I noticed a distinct _lack_ of civilians—they must have scattered when the Erasers showed up. I was positive by now that we would be _all over_ the eight o'clock news that night.

"U and A!" I commanded, stepping away from a confused Iggy and stretching out the muscles in my back, unfurling—

Nothing. My wings were gone, as if they were never there. I just didn't have any muscles where I should have. I even groped at my all-too-flat back for good measure. My wings were _gone!_ If we weren't about to be detained by football security at that moment, I would have had a full-on panic attack—and I probably would have ripped to shreds the first person who tried to talk to me. In fact, I _did _have to stop and find my breath again. _I can't fly. I can't get out of here. I'm flightless. They took away my wings!_ In retrospect, it was astonishing how floored I was when it finally sank in that I was _grounded_.

It was Gazzy's cries of, "MAX! Snap out of it!" that pulled me back to reality quicker than, well, finding out that _my wings were gone_ had pulled me out of it.

"Outside, _now!_" I shouted over the stomping of feet and the shouts of the officers as they reached us—we didn't have any time left. My flock darted for the door, but Fang—stupid Fang—was still arguing with my sperm donor.

"Fang, you _idiot!_" I called, rushing over to him and yanking him off of Jeb. "We're going to get _arrested,_ fathead!" I gave him a strong push in the direction of the door. "Move!"

My former best friend/right wing man/boyfriend gave me a strange sort of look—one of those that only he can accomplish, where he's both emotionless and displaying so many subtle feelings that I really have no idea what the _hell_ he's trying to tell me. "Get out of here!" I ordered, shoving him harder. Fang only nodded once before he was racing out after the rest of the flock.

But being the petty, stupid, vengeful person that I am, I decided to stay behind and pound some answers out of Jeb. After all, if Fang wanted something—and even though I didn't trust Fang for beans I knew he had a good head on his shoulders—then there had to be a reason for it, right?

I whirled to face my father, glaring heatedly. "Answers. _Now_," I demanded, even as officers surrounded us.

My father merely chuckled, taking my hand and slipping something into it. He then immediately turned and punched the nearest guard in the face.

I'm telling you, I couldn't move for a minute. I mean, when the guy who practically _raised _you but turned out to be a two-faced liar shows up and punches a security guard in the face, wouldn't you want to see him get taken out, too?

My astonishment was short-lived, for as soon as Jeb had distracted my almost-captors, Angel screamed into my head, _MAX! GET YOUR LEADERLY BUTT OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!_

And naturally, because I always take orders shouted right into my _brain_, thank you very much, I did exactly that.

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It's so good to be back. :D

**This chapter's review song theme is:** The current MOST-PLAYED song on your iPod/mp3 player, and your current FAVORITE song.

My most-played song is **Things I'll Never Say** by **Avril Lavigne**. (I actually haven't listened to it since July, though, but it's still in the lead.) I went through a huge Avril phase in over the summer, and it lead to me buying all of her CD's on iTunes. I still really like her music; I just don't listen to it any more.

My current _favorite_, on the other hand, would have to be… *thinks for a moment* **Be Like That** by **3 Doors Down**. It's an honestly beautiful song, with this almost lullaby feel to it. I love how much emotion there is in the chorus (no matter how corny that sounds). To me, this is the perfect dreamer song, for little kids who want nothing more than to grow up and be _somebodies_. (It's the line, "But just before he says goodnight/ He looks up with a little smile at me/ And he says/ If I could be like that/ I would give anything/ Just to live one day in those shoes," that does it for me.)

Have a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, or whatever it is you celebrate! May you get all the things that you want and spend some time with those you love. :) See you soon, guys.

Your faithful author,

Lea


	3. 02: Of Family Reunions and Acquired

**Quick Reference: 'Napper van= Kidnapper van. Or, a passenger van. The kind of van that a kidnapper would use to lure you into their candy-coated trap. (That's my cousin's definition, at least.)**

**The theme song for this chapter is "Time of Dying" by Three Days Grace. (This song was actually suggested to me by rosalinda316. Extra muffins for you, my friend!)**

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**Indescribable**

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Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

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**Chapter Two: Of Family Reunions and Acquired Allies**

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_My astonishment was short-lived, for as soon as Jeb had distracted my almost-captors, Angel screamed into my head, _MAX! GET YOUR LEADERLY BUTT OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!

_And naturally, because I always take orders shouted right into my _brain_, thank you very much, I did exactly that._

**Thursday, November 25****th****, 2010**

I pushed through the doors, stepping into the surprisingly cool Texas-night air.

"Max!" Nudge ran up to me, throwing her arms once more around my torso. "Are you okay? I saw that Eraser grab you around by the throat. Your neck still is a little red. Can you breathe all right? I really hope you're okay!" Then she gasped and jumped away. "OHMYGAWD!" she shrieked, right in my face. _Jesus,_ was my first reaction, _when did she grow so much?_ The top of her head used to be level with my nose, now she was almost looking me in the eyes. "I remember you! I can't believe I didn't realize this before, but I guess there was that whole _Eraser_ thing, and then you and Fang _kissed_—eww, I can't believe you could do that after what he did to us! I mean, like, I just can't look at him the same anymore. After what he did to you by leaving, and the way he just _let_ us be captured—God, I can't stand him. It's like—"

Gazzy, Angel, and Ig had come up to us, and now my trooper slapped his hand over Nudge's mouth. "Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver," he reminded her, pulling his hand away. Nudge blushed a bit, biting her lip lightly.

"Err—right. Sorry." Her eyes turned back to me. "I got sort of carried away."

I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. "I missed your motor mouth, Nudge." I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and the other around Iggy's waist. "I missed you all so much."

"We missed you, too, Max!" Angel piped up, her blue eyes sparkling. For the first time in a long while, she didn't look sinister or evil—she just looked like Angel.

My little mind reader could do her job far too well—she heard what I'd thought, and her eyes watered. "I'm sorry," she choked out, her little voice breaking. Gazzy stiffened, and brought his arms around his sister, but Angel, being the stubborn kid that she was, pulled away and looked up at me with a horrible, broken expression. "I'm so sorry, Max" she went on, clenching her hands, "all this was my fault. I tried to break us up and I broke us, and now we're wingless and you're so mad about that, and I…I'm just so sorry." She buried her face into her hands, and I got down on my knees. I brought her shaking form to me, shushing her hiccups.

_Angel,_ I thought gently.

_Yes?_ I winced—even her thought-voice sounded upset.

I squeezed her shoulders. _I'm not mad at you._

_Yes you are,_ she countered. She sniffled, bringing a sleeve around my shoulder to wipe at her nose.

_No, I'm really not. Do you want to know who I'm mad at?_ She nodded into my shoulder. _I'm mad at Itex, and all those whitecoats who took my baby and my flock from me. I love you Angel, don't you forget that. We're gonna kick everyone's butt who broke us. _"And Angel?"

"Yeah?"

I didn't even realize we'd switched to speaking aloud, but I replied all the same. "I promise you I won't rest until we get our wings back, no matter how impossible it is. They can't ground us, kiddo."

"Do you really think we can get our wings back?"

I straightened, draping an arm around Angel's shoulder as she curled up into my side. I looked up to meet Fang's gaze. He'd been standing about a yard away from us, I realized, just watching. Those fathomless eyes of his were emotionless, but by the tightness of his shoulders and jaw I could tell he wasn't calm as his easy posture suggested. Just looking at him, I could feel my own emotions shut down. Gazzy was practically seething beside me, and Nudge's fists clenched. Iggy looked murderous, while Angel remained teary-eyed but calm.

"I hope so," I replied flatly. Then I turned to my flock. "C'mon guys, let's get out of here before the cops show."

Gazzy took the lead of our little procession, instantly knowing in which direction was my stolen car. We walked away from Fang, and he just stood there, his hands in his pockets. Something on the ground must have been incredibly fascinating—he stared hard at the cement like his life depended on it.

As we walked away, my steps got steadily slower, until I wasn't moving at all. Nudge looked back at me, her eyes hardening as they flashed to Fang. Iggy merely took her hand, leading her after Gazzy. Angel gave me a short nod, her face set, then raced to catch up with her brother.

I turned back to my ex, folding my arms across my chest. We were only about twenty feet apart, and I didn't really like the distance. I walked up to him, keeping my steps measured. "I'm really pissed with you at the moment," I told him. He just looked up and met my eyes, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. "I can't trust you anymore, either. And you, of all people, know how hard it is to gain my trust. I don't _trust_ you, Fang. Not as far as I can throw you." His eyes flashed with something I couldn't quite decipher, but our gazes remained locked. "But," I sighed, releasing my arms and looking downward, "I have to let you come with us." I plowed right on, pretending I didn't notice the breath he'd taken to argue. "I _shouldn't_ be letting you come with us, but I am, so don't question it, okay? Just…" I took a deep breath, my eyes closing for a moment before they opened again and I met his gaze once more. "You're not apart of our flock. You're a tag-along, and I won't be surprised if you're not there when I wake up. But know that I _won't_ be crying over you ever again." Even as I said this, my chest tightened up rather contradictorily.

To his credit, Fang was silent for a moment. "Thanks," he said eventually, nodding at me. "I figured I was out of second chances anyway." He didn't make any move to reach out to me, not even to shake my hand, and I knew he wouldn't do so ever again. Why, then, did that make my chest ache the tiniest bit? I bit my lip, nodding once, and on a silent cue we both began to move in sync, running after Iggy and the kids.

We turned the corner, where I expected to find Rachel's car, my flock crowded next to it. Or, inside it, as I guessed Gazzy still had my keys. The Sedan was there, but the flock was nowhere to be found, and a quick glance told me that they weren't inside. A few feet behind my car was a giant grey 'napper van, the kind that seats twelve people.

I slowed to a stop, a frown growing on my face. A quick 360 showed absolutely nothing that could possibly be helpful. _Angel? _I asked slowly, worry beginning to claw at my heart with its cold talons.

Then the door of the van swung open, and Angel's blonde head poked out. "Max!" she called, grinning like a maniac and shaking with suppressed excitement. "Get over here!" A familiar furry black head peered over her shoulder, while another face leaned over her opposite one—a tanned face with the same eyes I saw every time I looked in the mirror, all framed by familiar locks of dark hair.

"Total? Ella?" I asked, incredulous, before I ran forward and lunged into the van, nearly crushing my sister in a hug. Fang came in right after me and quickly shut the door.

I flinched as I felt the van jerk into motion, speeding forward and navigating out of the parking lot. Reluctantly, Ella pulled away from me. Her face was all pinched in confusion. "Look, Max, I'm sorry," she said softly, "but I—"

"Careful, kid!" Ig exclaimed, as he was nearly whacked in the face by Angel's foot as she climbed into the next row, where Gazzy and Nudge sat.

Total grumbled something about not being able to breathe and shimmied into the front passenger seat. A small, "Hiya, Total!" brought my attention to the front of the van. I scooted over as much as I could to give Ella a little more room, but there _were_ four nearly-fully-grown teenagers sitting in a three-person row, so we were bound to be uncomfortable. As it was, my sister and I were smashed shoulder-to-shoulder between Ig and Fang respectively.

"Well, not that this isn't fun, guys," Iggy said with a sarcastic little laugh, "but I really would rather breathe than have Ella's elbow in my ribs—not that it's not a lovely elbow. I'm going to just—"

"I'll move." And with that, Fang was climbing over the seats, narrowly avoiding squashing Gazzy as he hiked into the very last row.

"I hope you know what you're doing with him, Max," Nudge murmured, resting her chin on the seat back, between my head and Ella's. She patted Gazzy's edgy shoulder absentmindedly, frowning at the streets ahead.

I looked out at the road, too, spotting a white-blonde head behind the wheel. Not recalling any fifteen-year-old blondes in my memory of known good-guys, I leaned forward slowly. "Excuse me, who do you think you are?"

Total put his paws onto the center consol and gave me a beseeching look. "Your default setting is still utter distrust, I see," he commented drily. I raised an eyebrow.

"And where have you been, Mr. Pain-In-My-Rear?"

There were a few snickers at that, and Total rolled his eyes. But then he smiled at me. "It's nice to have you back, Max." I felt myself grinning, too. I would never admit it, to myself or anyone within butt-whooping range, but Total had irrevocably become apart of the flock.

"But who is driving?" I insisted.

"Sorry, I'm Wren!" A pair of green eyes looked up into the rear-view mirror to meet mine. "And that's my brother Jay." Another blonde head—this time it belonged to a seven- or eight-year-old boy with Wren's eyes—leaned over Total to give a shy wave before retreating back into the passenger seat.

"Eyes on the road!" Nudge exclaimed, throwing her arm forward suddenly.

Wren swerved the van dangerously to the left to avoid hitting a car going fifteen miles slower than us as we pulled onto the highway.

"Maybe you should drive, and I can explain," Total suggested, looking slightly worried.

Iggy let out a breath from Ella's other side. "That would be good. I'd rather not die in a car accident. There's something far too ironic about that."

I held back the snort that threatened to come out as I gave Total an expectant look. He nodded and quickly explained about Wren and Jay, and how the three of them were cage neighbors in their early days at the Institute, before we'd set them all free. Apparently, this girl and her brother were both Avian-American like us.

"We got rounded up in Germany, too," Wren added, looking briefly back up at me before returning her gaze to the road. I had to wrack my brain for a moment, but it was really her eyes that did it. Those were the same eyes I'd seen three years ago when we were looking around at those cages in the basement of the Institute. Those were Wren and Jay's eyes. "We were apart of one of the last groups to get exterminated. We were scheduled to go in after the pep rally. Your little back-up plan saved out lives."

"And Fang! Fang helped, too!" Jay piped up, looking back around the seat with wide, excited eyes. "Fang? Are you there?"

"Right here, Jay," he replied from the back. I spun around, shooting an accusatory glare.

"How do you know them?" I demanded.

Fang gave a slight shrug. "It was an accident, really. I found them in… Baltimore?" He frowned. "Somewhere in New England. The details are fuzzy. They were practically starving, and I couldn't just leave them out on the streets." But he caught onto the look in my eyes. _Can we trust them?_

I didn't know why I was asking Fang—considering I has just explicitly told him that I didn't trust him—I only knew that he'd at least have an answer for me. Also, Total seemed pretty close to them, so they had to be at least partly trustworthy. Then there was the whole Ella piece of it, but I decided to worry about that later.

_Yes_, his eyes said. Sadly, that was enough for me. I returned to my front-facing position, tense but ready for anything else that life decided to throw at me. And I knew immediately where to start: with answers.

For the next twenty to thirty minutes, the flock and I interrogated Ella, Jay, Wren, and Total to find out about Itex's latest up-and-coming plans for us and in general. Wren and Total gave us a pretty good low-down on the resurrected Erasers and their fighting techniques, and Wren explained how the whitecoats have strayed away from human-animal mutants and instead turned to trying to "enhance" humans themselves. They also explained how they escaped, and how they found the van and booked it to Dallas right away—Jay had super-hearing, and he'd overheard the some techies worrying about all of us going to Dallas. It was chance that they found us at the stadium; they were driving by a store and our faces were all on the TV screens.

We interrogated the escapees until I thought we'd exhausted them of information. That is, until Nudge piped up, "Ella, how did _you_ get here?"

My sister stiffened against the back of the seat, going pale and freezing up. "They broke my mom," she whispered brokenly after a moment, burying her face into her hands.

"What?" was all I could manage. I twisted around in my seat so I could face Ella, but she just sat forward.

Iggy slung an arm around her shoulder. "What did they do?" His words came out tight, angry.

My sister's voice was hoarse, tired, and oh-so-quiet. "They used her as a test run when they wiped her memories. That's why I don't remember anything. Her brain is… sick. _Really_ sick. It's like a time bomb. She only has so much time left before she… They say she has until Christmas." The last sentence came out as a half-sob, and Iggy immediately pulled her to his chest.

I leaned back against the leather seat, completely and utterly stunned. "Mom is… dying?" someone asked in a scared, cracking voice. It took me a minute to realize that the voice was _mine_.

A hand immediately reached over the seat, grabbed one of my shaking ones, and squeezed hard. "We're going to go get your mom, Max," Gazzy said firmly.

"We'll save her," Angel added, catching my gaze with her confident stare.

"Yeah!" Nudge agreed, nodding vehemently. "I mean, your mom has done so much for us! She's the best, and they _can't_ just go and steal her memories and totally mess up her brain! We're totally going to kick some whitecoat as—I mean, err, butt. Yeah, whitecoat butt. They won't know what hit them!"

Iggy chuckled lightly, rubbing Ella's shoulder. "Nice save, Nudge."

"Max," my sister said suddenly, pulling out of Ig's arms to look at me urgently. "They messed with her brain—but she's super-smart. They wanted to run some tests and look at her so they took her to the, uhh…" Her expression fell, and her next words came out as a terrified whisper. "They took her to the School."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Basically, there was a lot of explaining done in this (extra-long!) chapter that most of you should already know. If you want greater details, go read the prequel to this: _Incredible_. Check out chapters 6, 9, 14, 21, and 23 for an in-depth explanation on anything you were confused about (or for anything you forgot, there's no shame in a spotty memory).

What did you think of that, hmm? I hope it satisfied. (There's a lot that I covered.) Basically, I have an outline of things I want to happen, but I don't hit everything exactly. I'm currently at 113 bullet points for this whole story, but the outline isn't done yet. By the end of this chapter, I've only crossed out 8 of them. There's a lot of life here yet. I'm thinking each chapter will be longer, but I might only get up to between 30 and 40 chapters. That's where I'm guessing this will finish up.

In honor of kicking this story off with a bang, here's the next:

**Chapter Review Song Theme: **What are TWO songs that make you think of Maximum Ride (the series in general)? (A fuller explination= more muffins, guys!)

My first song is **"My Sacrifice" **by **Creed**. It's a beautiful song, and the internet says it's about God. (I don't hear that bit of it, but that's okay.) I absolutely love this song with all my heart, but what reminds me specifically of the books is the chorus: "When you are with me/I'm free, I'm careless, I believe/Above all the others we'll fly/This brings tears to my eyes/My sacrifice." Essentially, the while flight analogy is what does it for me. But the guitar/piano score is what makes this song.

My second song is **"We Could Run Away"** by **Needtobreathe**. If you haven't heard these guys yet, you don't know what you're missing. This song is one of my new favorites, and it reminds me of the flock breaking free of… pretty much every prison they've ever been in; primarily, though, when they first broke out of the school with Jeb. I love the chorus like nobody's business, and these lyrics I can just sing over and over again: "We could run away/Maybe we could change/Get back on our feet again/Maybe make it home again," and then, "Maybe in the twilight/We could break out/Buy ourselves a Cadillac/Never turn around."

I love, love, LOVE those songs, and suggest you go listen to them right away. (They're both on YouTube, for the musically inclined.)

I apologize for the uber-long A/N. (There is no excuse, really.)

Yeah, so, my Muffin Match results aren't up and running quite yet. I still need to go through all the reviews. *sheepish grin* But I will get that done as soon as I can. (Thank God for my cousins having broadband!)

Have a very happy new year, guys! My resolution? Finish this series before 2012 is upon us!

Your faithful author,

Lea


	4. 03: A Game of Trust

Hey, guys, the Muffin Match stats are currently up on my profile! Go check 'em out! :)

**Curse Alert: Two swears here. ;) But they're at the end.**

**The theme song for this chapter is "On Your Side" by A Rocket To The Moon.**

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**Indescribable**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Chapter Three: A Game of Trust**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"_Max," my sister said suddenly, pulling out of Ig's arms to look at me urgently. "They messed with her brain—but she's super-smart. They wanted to run some tests and look at her so they took her to the, uhh…" Her expression fell, and her next words came out as a terrified whisper. "They took her to the School."_

**Thursday, November 25****th****, 2010**

Fang leaned against the cool glass of the van, wishing sleep would hold off a little longer. In the mean time, he listened to Max's soft, soothing voice as she sang quietly along with the radio, tapping her hands against the steering wheel to keep time.

As soon as they'd passed out of the city limits, Max had Wren pull over so the seventeen-year-old—who actually _had_ a license—could drive. At the time, the flock leader was furious with Itex and had become filled with a renewed craving for justice; she needed to be in control of her life once again, and she needed to get her mother out of the School. Wren had complied easily, moving into the passenger seat while her little brother took Max's previously-occupied spot beside Ella. Total didn't make a remark about the seating; he only climbed in back to curl up in Angel's lap.

After that, everyone broke off into their own conversations and the three mutant escapees let their wings relax from where they'd been tucked tight against their bodies. Fang, who was adjusting to being ostracized, was startled by Angel's thought-voice in his head.

_Fang?_

_Hmm?_ He'd barely shifted, though the mental invasion came without any warning.

_Why did you come back?_

That floored him more than she realized. Why _did_ he leave? The young man struggled to remember the reasons behind it—for he knew he'd never leave his family or Max without a good reason—but the whole scenario was fuzzy. He remembered writing that note and packing up to leave, but he couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why; it was _killing_ him. All he knew for certain was that his laptop had something to do with it. His laptop had thoroughly scared him, though he just didn't remember_ why_ yet.

As Fang struggled with himself for answers, Total began to speak with Angel quietly, and the girl's attention was drawn to her four-legged friend.

Fang listened quietly as Angel happily explained how she'd heard Total's thoughts as they rounded the corner; which was why she'd run up and into the van without a care. She also let slip that Wren and Jay's minds had poorly-built blocks against any and all mental invasions. She could feel Jay's open, innocent thoughts almost as loudly as the rest of the flock's, locking in her reason for trusting these two experiments.

_They're trustworthy, and I'm not,_ Fang thought to himself bitterly. He really should have seen it coming; the cold shoulders and the angry stares. Only Angel and Max would even acknowledge his presence, while the rest of his former friends ignored him as if letting him back into their lives would ruin them all. A sickening feeling slipped through the ex-flock member's system as it occurred to him that that very well might just be _true_.

Fang shook his head. He couldn't be bitter. That wouldn't solve anything. He didn't exactly remember why he left, but he knew there was more to it than what he'd written in that note. Now he just needed to prove to Max and the flock that he was still worthy of their trust.

Apparently, no one let Fang's possible treachery get in the way of their sleep, for they were all passed out after only about an hour of driving.

Leaning forward and carefully sliding to the center of the van, he took in the now-slumbering kids in the row immediately in front of him. The four of them—Angel, Total, Nudge, and the Gasman—were all curled up together like new-born puppies. They were all out like lights, looking more content than Fang had seen them in a long, long time.

In the row ahead, Iggy's quiet snoring was enough to know that he, too, was down for the count. Ella's lolled head, which leaned into Iggy's shoulder, suggested that she was out as well. Little Jay couldn't be seen except for a couple of dark-blue feathers peeking out from over back of the seat.

Suddenly, a white-blonde head jerked from the front passenger seat. Wren lunged around in her spot, her green eyes wide and frantic. Her anxious gaze raked over the spot where her brother rested, her worry slowly being replaced by warmth. As she turned back around in her seat, now satisfied that her brother was safe, she gave Fang a small, sad smile. _I'm sorry_, her eyes now said.

"He okay?" Max asked gently, her voice carrying to the back of the van above the slumbering heads.

"Yeah, he's okay." There was a smile in Wren's voice as she replied.

"Wren, where were you planning on heading, when you came down here?" Max asked, angling her head towards the new bird-girl but keeping her eyes on the road.

"Total and I were thinking Lake Mead would be a good place to stop, so we could regroup and get a game plan," the girl replied, reclining her seat back a little.

Max nodded, seeming to consider something. Fang wished he could be up there next to her, watching as she chewed on her lip without realizing it while she thought. "Look, I don't mean to be pushy," the driver began carefully, her eyes straying from the road for but a moment, "but you really just gave us the Raeder's Digest version of your story earlier."

"What do you want to know?" Wren's hand clenched around the center console, her knuckles appearing pale white in the moonlight. Her words were guarded, untrusting.

Max sighed, switching the radio off since she wasn't listening to it anymore and turning back to the road. "Why are you helping us? I mean, _I_ know that we've helped you, sometimes when we didn't even realize it, but I don't understand who you'd do"—she raised a hand, gesturing to the van and a sleeping Ella—"all of this."

Wren seemed to relax at this, the muscles in her shoulders loosening. She was quiet for a moment, contemplating her reply. "Jay," she said eventually.

"Your brother?"

She nodded. "You'd do anything for the flock. You'd protect them with your life. You've got to save the world, but the truth of the matter is that the flock will always come first, right?" Max nodded, her hair brushing her shoulders in an innocent sort of way. Fang chuckled silently. Max was anything _but_ innocent.

"It's worse for me," Wren admitted, her head turning away to look out the window.

"How so?" Fang's ears perked up at this, too. He was as curious, as confused, as Max. He's spent nearly three months with this girl, but he hadn't noticed anything out-of-the-ordinary with her. _Maybe she's just good at hiding her weaknesses,_ he mused, _like the rest of us are_.

"Jay is my whole world. I swear I could care less about myself, but if someone hurt him, or if I let him get sick or hungry or…" She swallowed thickly, "_captured_, then I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I need to know where he is at all times, or I might go crazy. His needs come way before mine." Her thin body slumped against the leather of the seat back. "It's like some sort of weird obsession. My brother is my life line." The fourteen year-old shifted so she was back to facing Max. "Can I tell you a secret?" she asked, her voice shaking the slightest bit and sounding very small, very young.

"What kind of secret?" The seventeen-year-old rested her hand on the center console, her palm up and inviting, while Fang considered the bird-girl's confession. _That explains some things._ While he, Wren, and Jay were their own mini-flock, he sometimes had to fight her to get her to eat, and had to watch her nearly all the time to make sure her food didn't just go straight to Jay. But she was a quick learner, always taking his instructions without hesitation, and then relaying them back to her brother to make sure he understood, too. The little kid was included in everything. There were no secrets between them, Fang had observed, and they were the closest pair he'd ever seen. _That's how the flock needs to be_, he concluded.

"It's not a bad secret," Wren corrected hastily. "I just don't want everyone to know. But I do have to tell someone, so you'll be ready if it ever happens again." The flock exile raised an eyebrow at this, leaning back in his seat as Wren sucked in a breath. "A long time ago, before you rescued us from the Institute, they pulled me out one day and injected me with something hot and fiery that had me passed out for days, I think. When I woke up, Jay—who was maybe three or four at the time—he was being dragged into his cage, all covered in bruises." Her eyes closed and her head dropped into her hands. "I remember being furious, so much so that my hands were shaking and everything went red. Then, the red just kind of became everywhere, and I went away, like I passed out or something. When I came to, Jay was in my arms, sobbing and shaking, and the two whitecoats who'd brought him in were on the ground, moaning in pain.

"They stopped testing Jay without me after that. My brother and I were always together, with cages right next to each other, and no one would dare touch him for fear of my reaction. It's been at least three years since then, and I still don't know exactly what I did, what I'm capable of. It's so… terrifying." Her last word came out a shaky whisper, hoarse with her genuine fear. "I can't lose myself like that again. I just can't. That's why Jay has to be safe. I do love him, but I'm so scared of what will happen if I lose control." Wren sniffled, slumping forward as her story finally finished. "You guys saved us. You protected my brother when I couldn't. How can I _not_ owe you this?"

Max's hand reached out, taking one of Wren's and squeezing it tight. Fang's heart warmed at that gesture, and he was reminded why she was the best leader there was, much better than he'd been. "Thank you, Wren," she said gently, looking out at the road once more, "for telling me this. I'll take any help you decide to offer to us, but I won't deny you the opportunity to save yourselves if things get difficult. I understand that you have your own priorities. However," she paused, releasing the younger girl's hand to brush her hair back in a comforting, motherly way, "we can protect you and your brother, probably better than you can on your own. Look, if you and your brother can help us get my mom out of that hellhole they took her to, you are welcome to stay with us."

Wren's head snapped up, her green eyes suddenly bright. "You mean it?"

Max nodded, smiling as she replied, "Of course. But," her brow pinched together and her tone became stoic and the slightest bit threatening, "you have to prove to me that you're on our side. Angel can read minds, you know. She trusts you at the moment, and my sister does, too, but that doesn't mean that I'd put my life in your hands, like I would for anyone else in the flock. You have a ways to go before I can trust you like that."

Wren broke out into a wide grin, nodding furiously. "God, thank you, Max. You're really incredible, you know that?"

The young woman gave a small laugh, shaking her head as she returned her gaze back to the deserted two-lane highway. "I've been called a lot of things in my life, but incredible was never one that stood out."

"Are you kidding?" Wren exclaimed, her voice spiking accidentally. In a lower tone, she continued, "Sometime, I have to tell you all the stories that were passed around at the Itex headquarters in Germany, before you came along. You'd be surprised how many of us mutants were in _awe_ of the incredible, indestructible Maximum Ride."

Instead of smiling back, Max's face fell, all emotion wiping clean off it. "Thanks, Wren," she said softly. "Why don't you try to fall asleep? We'll be stopping soon enough. I've got some things to think about before I switch with whoever wants to drive next."

"Oh, okay. G'night, Max." The bird-girl bit her lip uneasily, carefully climbing over the console to curl up against the seat back, shifting a sleeping Jay so that he was lying in her lap. As she did so, she shrugged at Fang, mouthing the words, _What did I do?_ The young man gave a small shrug, unwilling to divulge his ex-girlfriend/best friend/leader's weakness—that she didn't want to be as hallowed as everyone thought she did.

Fang watched Max for a moment as she blinked a few times for want to squeeze her eyes shut and as her hands tightened around the steering wheel in a death grip.

_You incredible, brave, stupid Maximum Ride_, Fang thought to himself with a smile, _You don't know how truly amazing you are_. And with that, he slid back to the side of the van and _finally_ allowed himself to close his eyes and drift off into a light sleep.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

The door to Rose McCaffrey's little suburban home slammed open. The two Kimmel sisters rushed to the door, each one anxious and worried.

Rebecca was glaring at them furiously as she hung up her coat, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She stiffened her jaw. "Where is Riley?" she ground out, still at odds with the two of the girls with whom she thought she was related.

Rachel sighed, her eyes red with unshed tears. "We don't know… Well…" she cast a quick glance at her older sister, "We know where she _was_. But we tried her cell phone and she never answered." Little did any of them know, Riley's cell phone was at that moment in the back pocket of a sleeping twelve-year-old boy with a long track of mimicry and digestive problems.

"Rose, Rachel, come here!" Isaac snapped, his harsh voice carrying into the foyer.

The three women looked at each other before they hurried into the living room, finding Mr. and Mrs. Kimmel—sitting, stricken, on the couch—and Isaac—standing stiffly, like a human statue—with their eyes glued to the television screen.

The young doctor held up the remote and quickly rewound to the beginning of the news, and everyone grew hushed as the events rolled out on screen.

An intern hurried up to the sports anchor currently reviewing the night's game. She whispered something into his ear, and the man's eyes widened like saucers before he quickly shoed the woman off screen.

"Unless you were at the game tonight, folks," he began carefully, his eyes flickering somewhere to the left of the camera, "this is breaking news. During the third quarter at the Cowboys Stadium, a fight—sorry, a _battle?_—broke out between six… kids, and what I've been told are"—here the man swallowed nervously and gave a false laugh—"_werewolves_." He paused, frowning slightly and looking back off camera, as if he was taking cues directly from a crew member. "Our man on the scene, Peter, has just informed me that he's spoken with the security guards and they've agreed to let him show the security tapes of the fight. Please note, folks, that this is the first time I'm seeing this as well." He nodded off-camera again, and the screen shifted.

The image that appeared was slightly grainy, but it clearly showed the figure of a very familiar, blonde-haired young woman breaking through the crowd milling around the concession stands, and plowing straight into a dark-haired young man.

Mrs. Kimmel gave a little moan, burin her face into her hands as the two teens went at each other. Becca moved closer to the television, something twitching in the back of her mind at the scene. If only she could get a good view of their faces… but they were moving too fast, and now they were on the ground, wrestling like animals.

Suddenly, the movement stopped as he pinned her to the ground. The nineteen-year-old's knees gave out from under her as everyone on screen, and in their living room, seemed to hold their breath. There was a moment, and Becca wasn't truly sure how long it lasted, where she could almost feel the gears in the back of his head moving as he tried to process the girl in front of him.

The moment was shattered when he leaned his head in to hers and kissed her vehemently. A sharp pain exploded through Rebecca's temples, and she let out a gasp, squeezing her eyes shut and pressing her fingers to the aches. She was able to plot through it, however, when Rose let out an anguished cry: "Rebecca, look!"

The younger cousin snapped her head up, staring at the screen with eyes that grew steadily wider. The blonde was scrambling to her feet, pushing the young man off of her, her lips forming one word—a word that the former schizophrenic never expected to hear, or, in this case, see.

_Fang_.

Any breath in the young woman's lungs left her in a rush as she took in the _very_ clear faces of her cousin Riley and Owen Dinardo, son of her once-again boss, just before he pulled her into his arms like she was the one thing keeping him grounded on this planet. Their lips moved, but Rebecca wasn't paying attention. She was too busy fighting the tears of relief and shock that sprang to her eyes. _They're real. Shit. They're actually _real!_ Oh _shit!

"Becca?"

The young woman swiped away the tears madly as her aunt tried to speak, just in time to watch a group of people pull Riley away from Owen. There were four of them; a tall, lanky young man with strawberry-blonde hair and clear blue eyes, a skinny teen girl with dark skin and wild hair, a tall boy with blue eyes and hair like spun gold, and a girl who could have been his sister with her angelic features.

_The flock._

Rebecca didn't have a chance to see the children break off as a collection of men—men who morphed into wolves—rushed at them like starving beasts, for as soon as the thought came, unbidden, into her mind, a searing-hot stab of pain shot through her skull, threatening to slice her head in half. She let out an involuntary scream, clutching at her cranium in hopes of containing what would soon be her splattered brains on the walls.

"Rebecca!"

"Bex!"

Voices swirled around her, concerned and scared like they had been a little over two years ago, but she never did hear what they said. Her head was pounding far too hard, far too fast. With each throb, an image would burn into the back of her mind, and the young woman felt herself slowly overcome with a delirium of the likes of which she hadn't experienced since she was seventeen.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Nine dreams were immediately silenced and nine figures immediately sat up as an agonized scream split through the night.

"Max!" Ella cried out, watching in terror as her sister bent forward, clutching at her head as if her life depended on it.

Suddenly, Max wasn't the only one screaming as the van swerved into the middle of the road at the same moment a pair of headlights cut down their lonely, deserted two-lane highway, heading straight for them.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

*sigh* I'm very aware that some of you hate me right now. *hands head*

There isn't much of an excuse, other than I'm shuffling some things around. My wonderful beta, UnbrokenSilences, has left the series, on account of her life getting too busy. That's totally fine, and I still love her to pieces for all the work she put into Incredible, helping me through that and just being all-around wonderful. I've actually got a new beta, a real-life friend of mine who goes by ANessa Kedavra here on FFN. She's going to help me work on the plot, basically, so we can get it as solid as it can be for the last part of the trilogy. (There will be one, and _only_ one, more sequel to this story.)

Also, I haven't forgotten that I owe ten people a sneak peek of a chapter further on. (A chapter that should have been the first chapter of this.) I haven't actually had the chance to pre-write yet for this story, so as soon as I have a large enough repertoire, I'll send out a PM to everyone. (To all my Cookie Contest Winners: I am so, unbelievably sorry!)

**Chapter Review Song Theme:** When you're bummed out and feeling lost, what are two songs that will instantly lift your spirits?

My first song is **"Long Live"** by **Taylor Swift**. Basically, it's just a beautiful, _triumphant_ song about being the person that you want to be. This song… it's so wonderful, I cry sometimes because I get myself so worked up. I'd list lyrics, but these A/N's have been getting long, so I won't. (However, if you give me lyrics, you'll be more-likely to get all 5 muffins for each song.)

My second song is **"Absolutely (Story Of A Girl)" **by **Nine Days**. There isn't really a reason to this, other than it helps me forget everything I'm worried about, because I can just close my eyes and sing along and remember being little and listening to this song and not being worried.

On a side note, have any of you ever been onto my profile and seen the **Unofficial Lists of Amazing Stories by Amazing Writers**? It's a lit of stories are fantastic, but the one I'd like to point out is by **alpha-range. **It's called **Maximum Ride: The Guardian Experiment** and has one current sequel, **The Definition of Normal**. These stories are rewrites of the first two books, as if only Fang and Max had been taken from the School. The author does a fantastic job with the progression of the characters and their relationships in this story, and the little bit of the sequel that's out is just as good. There's even a bit of Fax, because she actually lets their relationship progress naturally, unlike a certain author.

If anything, please, please, _PLEASE_ go check this out (for me) and give her a kind review. She really deserves it.

Thanks so much for putting up with me and my awfully long A/N's. :(

Your faithful author,

Lea


	5. 04: Flash Photography

I am officially an awful person. *hides in the corner* So… yeah, this is insanely overdue, but good news, the outline is almost finished. I officially have a plan for 95% of this story. :) (I've made it up to the climax, and then a short resolution which I already have a plan for.)

**Quick Reference: As in the books, only Max's point of view will be in first person. Everyone else is in third-person, either limited or omniscient, depending on what works best for that scene.**

**Curse Alert: Yep, swears here, too. (Only a few, though. I'll try to keep it mostly clean.)**

**The theme song for this (way-overdue) chapter is "Hurricane" by Needtobreathe.**

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**Indescribable**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Chapter Four: Flash Photography**

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"_Max!" Ella cried out, watching in terror as her sister bent forward, clutching at her head as if her life depended on it._

_Suddenly, Max wasn't the only one screaming as the van swerved into the middle of the road at the same moment a pair of headlights cut down their lonely, deserted two-lane highway, heading straight for them._

**Thursday, November 25****th****, 2010**

Wren lunged forward, nearly completely clearing the center console, and grabbed the wheel, swerving the can back to the safety of the right lane. The semi blared its thunderous horn as it sped past them in the blink of an eye, and the passengers gave a collective sigh of relief.

Max moaned pitifully and curled in on herself, her foot slipping off the gas pedal. His hands clenching into fists, Iggy demanded, "What happened?"

"Max is having a brain attack." Angel's voice drifted forward as Wren guided the van onto the shoulder and to an eventual stop in the dirt.

"Max?" Wren asked, slowly extending a hand to the girl who'd fallen silent in the driver's seat, squeezing her head as tears streamed down her face and biting into her lip so hard that she drew blood. "Max? Are you all right?"

Iggy sat forward as everyone climbed out, gently perching next to Wren and placing his hands onto Max's shoulders. Ella pulled the driver's door open, but stepped away when Nudge came forward. The motor mouth brushed her leader's hair out of her sweating face, murmuring soothing words.

The slamming shut of the rear door caused Ella to jump and look back in fright, over the heads of the three children and the dog standing tensely by the van. Fang stalked forward, deftly side-stepped the kids, Ella, and Nudge, and crouched at Max's side. Iggy tensed, his eyes snapping fiercely to a point above Fang's left shoulder and his hands tightening instinctively around his leader's shivering shoulders.

"Get away," he ground out, his tone deadly and low. "Get the hell away from us, bastard."

The elder young man's face darkened, and he stood to his full height as his former friend climbed out of the van through the side door. Wren slipped out of the passenger door, going around to hastily pulled Ella and Jay away from the angry former flock members who were now squaring off. Angel, Gazzy, Nudge, and Total all backed up as well, sensing the tension in the air as thick as soup.

Fang's jaw tensed as if he was going to open his mouth and argue, but then his eyes shot to Max as she gave a barely-audible moan. Something about his hard expression softened the smallest bit, and he immediately pulled the shaking girl up into his arms, her body curling into his chest as she attempted to keep in the screaming bubbling in the back of her throat.

Stiff, dark eyes met fierce blue ones. "Let me help her." It was not a request.

A small, broken whimper passed through Max's lips, and her whole body flinched. Iggy's eyes went as cold as ice. "If you are hurt her…" he began menacingly, but Fang never did hear, for he was striding quickly away from the road and the van's headlights illuminating the darkness, instead taking Max into the baked heat of the desert and the light of the stars.

He laid her down on the ground gently, like a small child, and kneeled beside her, clasping her cold, white fingers in his.

"Shh," he soothed, unlocking her fingers from their positions knotted in her hair.

"Hurts, Fang," she mumbled back weakly, blinking up blearily at him. "Hurts like hell." She gave a thin, breathy laugh, her eyes fluttering back closed as another bought of pain shot through her head. Her small hands, still grasped firmly in his, tightened involuntarily.

Any of Fang's pervious anger was gone now as he gazed down at the young woman who used to love him. "Will you be okay, Max?" he asked softly, pulling her head into his lap.

She blinked once—a substitute for a nod; meaning that she wasn't even _close_ to being okay.

"Max…"

She rolled her eyes at his worried tone, exhaling shakily. "Fang, I'm—" She cut herself off with a sudden gasp, her eyes rolling back into her head as she flinched and curled up on her side.

Fang stayed quiet as her face contorted in pain, rubbing calming circles along the backs of her wrists with his thumbs. His brow pulled together, wishing with all his might that he could do anything to take it all away from her.

"This will get better," he decided, muttering the words into Max's ear as he pulled her quivering form into his lap. "We'll make you whole again, Max. I promise."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Wren's breathing took a while to even out after she wrapped her arms around Jay. I glanced at the flock when she finally fell asleep—it was only 10:12.

_God, you've gotten so soft,_ I thought with a frown, turning the radio back on and flipping to a clear station. _What happened to the kick-ass, take-no-prisoners, get-out-of-my-way-before-I-rip-your-head-off Max?_

_She was broken,_ a small voice answered. This time it was my own thoughts, not the Voice, replying to the question. The Voice hadn't reappeared yet, and I was starting to worry. Not that I'd admit it to anyone. I might have gone soft, but I wasn't going to tell the flock that.

_She was broken_, that small, rational voice continued, _so she couldn't do what she needed to do; she was broken so she wouldn't be able to save the world_.

I bit back a growl in the back of my throat. Everything kept coming back to those _whitecoats_. Everything that had gone wrong in the part two years—losing out memories, our wings, my _mom_—kept leading me back to the same place: _them_.

I _had_ to make this right. No matter how unprepared I was, or how soft I'd become, or how deeply terrified I felt at the prospect, I wouldn't rest until I'd righted all the wrongs they'd done to us. I owed the flock that much, for dragging them into this mess when I'd allowed Fang to break me apart.

However, I had absolutely _no_ clue where to start.

As I reached over to roll down my window—Wren's van was an incredible asset, but it was as old as dirt—a sharp, stabbing pain shot up the back of my spine and exploded inside my skull.

I felt my lips open as my eyes closed, but it was as if I was under water—nothing felt real save for the _God-awful_ pain and the swirling, flashing images scattered across my closed eyelids.

I supposed I let out a scream, because, when my mouth closed with a snap, my throat was raw and dry. I bit down hard on my lip so it wouldn't happen again. The world jerked to the right, and a young voice that I thought I'd heard before asked far-too-loudly, "Max?"

I couldn't find the will to reply—everything was pounding and threatening to break out of my head and I probably would have vomited from the vertigo. Every throb nearly split my head in two, and it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming my lungs out.

The voice continued, talking way-too-loudly, only to be joined by a new, quieter one. Through the flashing behind my eyes, I felt someone gently place a hand—or was it both?—onto my shoulder. A cool breeze hit my cheeks, and warm fingers brushed my hair away as a murmur tricked in through the foggy, hazy hurt.

Feeling like I had a little more control, I prepared myself to attempt a response when something slammed, the sound ricocheting of the inner walls of my mind, instantly ravaging whatever immunity I'd build up to this madness. I clenched harder at my head tighter, and in a flash all the former comfort was gone. Some part of me—the part left untouched by the hurting—realized that _something_ was happening and I should at least try to pay attention, but I could really care less. All I wanted was for this to _endendend_. I wanted to be _done_, prayed for this to all be over.

Then pair of arms wrapped around me and began to whisk me away, and, sadly, my first instinct was to curl up close to the source of warmth, since it dulled the ache in my head and made the flashing, neon pictures fade just a little. When the arms set me down on the warm, dry ground, I immediately missed the pressure.

Rough, familiar hands wrapped around mine and gently pulled my fingers out of the knots they were forming in my hair, a successful distraction from the dulling throb in my head.

"Hurts, Fang." The words didn't come out so easily, tripping over my lips as I blinked up at him through a haze of tears. How had I known it was him? I wasn't exactly sure. "Hurts like hell," I admitted, laughing a little and squeezing his hands tighter in mine.

Fang's face softened as he looked at me, and had I been completely lucid I would have had the sense to either blush hard or slap that look clean off his face. I didn't need people worrying about me; _I_ worried about _people_. "Will you be okay, Max?" he asked now.

Of course, as soon as he did, another wave of pain drowned me. Moving my head would hurt too much, so I have a slow blink of assent.

Fang's brow furrowed the slightest bit, easily spotting my lie. "Max…"

I had enough strength to roll my eyes and try my hand at an exasperated sigh; the boy had no reason to be worried, he and I both knew I'd gone through worse. _This_ was really nothing to be worried about; we needed all our energy focused on rescuing my mother. "Fang, I'm—" I began to say, but another bout of stabbing pain shot through my head, and an involuntary gasp escaped instead as my vision was swamped by a thick, angry red.

This time, the images that flashed up again stayed for half a second before they blinked to the next one, only to start back at the beginning when the set was done.

Through the alternating throbs and stabs of pain, I caught onto fleeting bits of pictures, absorbing a new detail with every set.

A seep, dark tunnel, covered in layers of slime and dirt, where a sole metal door swung open in the light of one lonely bulb. A thin, severe woman with cold brown eyes and a superior stare, her arms folded imperiously over her chest. A massive inferno, raging across the land in a vengeful fury and devouring everything that stood in its way. A deserted, decrepit castle, merely a ghost of the impenetrable fortress of evil and terror it used to be. A stout young man with hard, blue eyes and cropped brown hair, glaring furiously and folding his hands into deadly fists, priming for the kill. A long, stark-white hallway, lined with door after thick metal door; an airless death march for all the tormented, the imperfections, and the damned. Thick, swirling clouds of blackness and terror and destruction, racing through the sky and engulfing the earth in its watery mouth. A wooden casket lying deep in the ground, sprinkled with dry dirt and adorned with two pristine lilies. A sentinel house perched atop a sheer cliff, abandoned in its prime to father dust, in favor of cross-country flights. A drawn man in a wrinkled, stained lab coat, his face lined and aged by the tolls of worry and work. A young man with sea-blue eyes and movie-star blonde hair, his eyes pained and sad and confused as he looked forward.

I can't tell you how many times those images shuffled through my head. After an eternity of the endless repetition, they began to blur together; tunnel to the Institute, the Director, a wildfire, the Itex castle, Omega, a hallway in the School, a hurricane, Ari's casket, the E-shaped house, Jeb, Dylan. Tunnel, Director, fire, castle, Omega, hallway, hurricane, casket, house, Jeb, Dylan. Again and again, getting increasingly faster until they began to face back, blinking in and out tiredly, like a pathetic old film projector.

Naïvely, I hoped this could be over. If only I knew how wrong I was.

When that cluster of images faded away, a new one emerged from the nothingness behind my eyes. This time, there were only four pictures.

The first was of my mother, sitting at the kitchen table in her home in Arizona. Her hands were clasped at the table, and she was smiling sadly, her eyebrows turned down at the far corners.

The next was of Ella, also at the Martinez house, peeking around the door to the guest bedroom, that first day I'd spent with them. Her face had lit up, a small smile forming around the edges of her lips.

The third was of a little girl, not even two years old, her young, olive face stained with tears as she sat on the floor of a cage. She was wearing nothing more than a thin gown, tied in back to let her downy, molten black-and-brown wings extend freely. Her bony arms and legs were lined with thin scars partially covered by the thick, dark-brown curls tangled around her face and shoulders. Her bottom lip jutted out, her chocolate-brown eyes glistening with tears in the fluorescence.

The last one was of Fang, in his long-hair days when we were at the E-shaped house. He had a dry, blasé look on his face, no doubt from one of the boys teasing him about his almost-curly hair (Gazzy and Iggy were merciless). His fathomless eyes were uncharacteristically expressive, as there was some sort of spark behind the black.

These pictures started to flicker more quickly from one to the next, and I began to notice two glaring similarities. As the faces of the girls changed from my mom to Ella to that toddler, I caught onto the fact that _they all had the same eyes_. _My_ eyes. It also couldn't be denied that, when placed right before Fang's picture, the girl looked remarkably similar, no matter how muted the resemblances were with her young age. The same straight nose, the same thin mouth, the same jaw line, not to mention the same coloring. Except for her eyes. She had _my_ eyes.

Somewhere out there was a little girl with _Fang's_ features and _my_ eyes.

I might have let out a gasp, for as soon as it hit me, everything flashed hot and bright, don't-look-at-the-sun white, a final image forming in the negative of the flash.

Sitting across from me at Rose's dining room table, her unmanageable brown hair falling out of its bun, and her hands clasped around her mug of coffee, Rebecca Kimmel stared at me with a look of confusion, her brow drawn together and her mouth quirked in a familiar sort of way.

Then it all flashed even brighter white, and just before the heat and the pain succumbed me once and for all, I thought I heard her say seven impossible, damning words:

_It's so good to see you again, Maximum_.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"Dear _Lord_, please don't let this happen again!" Rose crouched down next to her cousin, carefully checking her temperature with the back of her wrist. "Get a cool wash cloth from the kitchen," she instructed to her husband. His brow furrowed, but he nodded and left the room.

"Bex, c'mon." Rachel knelt down as well, taking one of Rebecca's hands and squeezing it tightly. The other hand the nineteen-year-old was pressing tightly to her eyes. "You said this was over. We thought you were done. _You_ said the voices were done."

"They… _were_," Becca managed to say through clenched teeth, her face going pale. "They… left. Now… they're back."

Isaac was back, handing the damp cloth to his wife. "Is this normal?" he asked.

Mrs. Kimmel, who had been leaning into her husband's arms on the couch, gave a shaky, humorless laugh. "Isaac, if only it wasn't," she said drily.

Rose gently tilted the younger woman's face up, wiping her down as if she was a toddler who'd just been faced with a bowl of spaghetti.

"'M not four…" Rebecca mumbled, shying away from the touch and curling in tighter onto herself, her fingers pressing harder into her skull.

Rachel wrapped her arms around her cousin's shoulders, resting her chin on top of the nineteen-year-old's head. "What do you see, Bex?" she asked.

Mrs. Kimmel's eyes widened, and she mouthed, _Are you crazy?_ Rachel's face darkened, and she glowered at her mother briefly for a moment, before turning and receiving a supportive, encouraging smile from Rosalyn. In the beginning, it had been beneficial for Rebecca to explain what she was seeing, when the visions and the voices had first come along. As the episodes progressed and worsened, however, Mrs. Kimmel had put down any and all forms of encouragement.

She bit back the moan rising in her throat and had to take a couple deep breaths before she was able to answer. "Too many colors… they're going too fast, can't really catch them," she mumbled. It was as if she was speaking into a phone, and they were only receiving half the conversation. Her body stiffened, jerking slightly before shuddering back into her cousin's arms. "Now there're pictures… going really fast… a tunnel… a woman, really mad… a boy, scary-looking… a hallway, so white… the house in Colorado… tunnel again, fire now… that boy, a storm… really bad one, dark and mad and lots of waves… a whitecoat… God, hate him." Rebecca's words cut off, and her shoulders sagged a little bit in relief. Then she set off to muttering again. "Different woman now… she looks nice, like a mom… a girl, same face… her daughter, maybe… a little baby, same brown eyes as the others…" She let out a gasp of shock. "Fang?" It was barely even a breath. "_Fang_," she repeated, still breathy, still floored. "That's Fang… and, he, he… he looks _just like that baby girl_!"

Everyone in the room froze when Rebecca shrieked, her voice rising to an inhuman pitch. Rachel flinched, her ears stinging from the blast. Rebecca collapsed in her arms, dropping back onto the carpet.

"Becca!" Rose brushed her one-time sister's hair from her face, checking a pulse just to make sure. When she found it in the young woman's neck, the teacher asked softly, "What do you see now, Becca?"

Her voice was weak, fading, as if she could barely even remain conscious. "I… I… I see _me_." Like the turning of a switch, all of the tightness in her limbs was released and she relaxed into the carpeting, her face smoothing out and her eyelids becoming too heavy to lift. In her last breath before she was down for the count, she whispered, more relieved than they'd ever heard her, "It's so good to see you again, Maximum."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Wow. Umm…

And the awful thing is… (hides)… I had this pre-written...

So, any questions? Did you catch the time changes there? The second section rewinds a little bit, and then the third section rewinds also. I just liked getting this scene from three different POV's. Hopefully it worked. My beta said it wasn't flowy, like I had hoped. But I _really_ wanted to get those pictures in Max's POV in, and had no way to do it without back-tracking a whole lot. If anyone is confused on Becca's bit, I added a chapter to Incredible (Chapter 23.5). Maybe that will explain some things.

Also, what do you think of this new development (with Max and Becca)? I've had it planned since, well, Incredible. (Which, admittedly, was only a couple of months ago, but…)

Topic change: does anybody remember my mysterious "she" from Incredible? (See Chapter 23.) The one you had to pick names for? Well… she's in this chapter. (And… it's pretty obvious who it is, now, isn't it?) Hmm… if I have some smart-muffin readers (I don't think you could be smart cookies, I already made those) who want to take a guess on who this mysterious "she" is, I can give you four muffins. (I need two things: who she is, and how she's related to the story.)

**Review Theme:** Songs that you can dance to. Jump-around-the-room, fist-pumping, party songs. :)

Let's see… **"I've Gotta Feeling" **by the **Black Eyed Peas**. There is no reason, I just like this song. It's one of the very few that I can listen to on the radio a million times and still love. (Also, what did you think of the Super Bowl half-time show, my American readers? I liked it, but lots of other people are giving it flak. Thoughts?)

"**We R Who We R"** by **Ke4sha**. This is the only song of hers that I like, because she actually sings in it, and when she actually sings, she has a decent voice. But I like the message behind it, too. It's an empowerment song, and that's awesome. Also, her music is very dancy and stuff. It's fun.

I want to get another chapter to you by Sunday, if you don't have a problem with that. (Please don't hurt me! I know how the story will end!)

Your faithful, ashamed, regretful, very, very, sorry author,

Lea

**(PS: ANGEL COMES OUT IN THREE DAYS!)**


	6. 05: Max Cards and McDonald's

Here I am, on Sunday, as promised! Sorry for this filler, but I'll have another chapter up by Friday.

Apparently, I had a conversation with Kenikitten, and I wasn't even apart of it… Anyway, it was fun to read, teehee. I'm sorry for throwing that rock! ;P

**The theme song for this chapter is "Jumper" by Third Eye Blind.**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Indescribable**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Chapter Five: Max Cards and McDonald's**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

_Her voice was weak, fading, as if she could barely even remain conscious. "I… I… I see _me_." Like the turning of a switch, all of the tightness in her limbs was released and she relaxed into the carpeting, her face smoothing out and her eyelids becoming too heavy to lift. In her last breath before she was down for the count, she whispered, more relieved than they'd ever heard her, "It's so good to see you again, Maximum."_

**Friday, November 26****th****, 2010**

When I woke up, my head was aching in a dull, irritating way. My eyes were still closed, but I was lying down on a semi-comfortable surface, and upon running my hands over it I felt the rough carpeting of the van floor.

"Feeling any better?"

I instantly stiffened, jackknifing into an upright position. Despite the drumming behind my temples and the utter lack of light, I clenched my fists tight and whirled on the offender.

Fang leaned back against the side of the van, holding his hands up in surrender. His face was stoic, his jaw was set and his eyes were guarded; he'd actually been worried. As if struck, a foreign memory bolted into my head.

Fang and I were in neighboring cages, and he'd just been tossed in after another whitecoat-ministered test. We couldn't have been more than five, but he was more worried about what the scientists had done to _me_ while he was gone than he was for his own safety. _Max,_ he'd asked in a small, hard voice, _they didn't do anything to you, did they?_

That young-Fang face couldn't have been more identical to that of the little girl from my visions. _Does he know?_ I couldn't help but wonder.

"Yes," I replied stiffly. _Focus, Max, you're supposed to be angry with him_. But it was so hard, considering half of me wanted to throw my arms around him. The other half knew I had to be strong, for the flock, for myself. Fang was with us, but he wasn't _with_ us anymore. I had to remember that.

My ex-boyfriend nodded, his eyes shooting out the back window.

"Max?" Nudge's curly, dark head peeked over the back of the row in front of us.

I frowned, looking around me. There was more room in the back of the van than there should have been. Was I missing something…?

"Oh, we chucked out the fourth row of seats when you passed out, so you could lie down," Nudge explained, noticing the confusion on my face. "It was really freaky. We were all so worried," she admitted, propping her forearms on the back of the seat and resting her head on her hands. She was just getting started, her breathing already getting shallow to support the oncoming monologue.

"Iggy said we should let you rest," she went on, "but Angel said you needed space when you woke up. She was really scared, actually, because we all agreed that this was probably another pre-Voice brain attack, like the ones you had when we were in New York, remember? Well, _obviously_ you do, seeing as, well, yeah. But Angel was worried because she wasn't getting a headache, too, and she's got a Voice of her own, ya know? Frankly, I'd be feeling the same way if I thought my head might explode in pain on me or something. I _was_ really worried when you passed out, and Fang carried you back to the van. I thought Ig would rip Fang's head off or something, but he just told me and Gazzy to stay back here to watch you." She finished off with a nervous laugh. No one yet had the heart to cut Nudge off from one of her tirades. After all, we'd all just found each other again, and Nudge's rants were something we all found we missed.

The Gasman's honey-blonde head popped up next to Nudge's. His gaze was uncharacteristically hard as he glanced at Fang, but when his eyes returned to me they lightened considerably. "Hey, Max. It's good that you're awake again."

I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "Thanks, Gasser. Hey, who's driving?"

"Oh!" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Ella's at the wheel, 'cause you were asleep and Iggy wouldn't let Fang drive. Ella is the only other one of us with her license, but, she's not the best driver in a big van like this. We've all been waiting for you to wake up. Plus," his ears reddened around the edges, "I'm starving, and no one has enough money for all of us to eat."

Then I remembered that, what felt like a life time ago, Jeb had shoved something into my hands, and I'd immediately stowed the thing into my pocket. My hand instantly dove into my jean pocket, and I fished out the square piece of plastic. My raptor vision easily picked out the raised letters, despite the faded light. _MAXIMUM RIDE_, read the little piece of plastic. The Max Card. "I have something," I said with a smile, tossing the card over to Nudge, who grinned.

"Oh, Lordy, yes!" Nudge sighed in relief, her doe-brown eyes going wide. "Now we can actually eat! And I am _so_ hungry, too, seeing as I ate like, _nothing_ at the game since the food was so expensive and I wasn't about to…" The excitement dropped off her face, and I felt my features mirror hers. "I didn't want Dani and her mom spending all of their money on me," she said softly. Her resigned eyes looked back up at me. "I'm never going to see them again, am I?" It wasn't really a question.

I reached out and clasped her hand, tightly squeezing those long fingers of hers. "I don't know," I answered truthfully. I hated seeing her so upset, when she was one of the only real positive forces we had. Yet… it also hurt to think that she wanted to go _back_ to that fake life the whitecoats had made up. I didn't want to have to let her go.

The Gasman's face shut down at this, and his eyes scanned the floor of the van with a fake interest. "I don't want to go back to my 'mom,'" he mumbled into the seat, "I don't want to see her again." And with that, he spun in his spot, falling back against his seat and angling himself towards the window.

Nudge's eyes widened, her concern staining her face as she quirked an eyebrow at me. I shrugged—I didn't know what that was about, either. "I'm sorry, Gaz," she said softly, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder. Giving me a sorry shrug, she turned back to face the front.

I shot Fang a quick look to see if he had any idea what was going on with Gaz. He shook his head once, giving me no help whatsoever. I sighed, getting up on my knees and calling to the front, "Ella!"

The van jerked sharply to the left, and I was flung into Fang's lap. "Sorry everybody!" Ella called back sheepishly as I slowly sat up, rubbing my shoulder where it had collided with Fang's knee.

Right, so yelling wouldn't get us anywhere.

_Angel_, I thought, _tell Ella to pull over._

_Will do,_ was her happy reply. _And Max?_

_Yeah, Ange?_

_I'm glad you're back._

I grinned, and was still doing so when the van pulled to a stop. I hopped out of the back immediately, swinging around the front to meet my sister. Ella wrapped her wiry arms tightly around my torso, giving me a squeeze before stepping away as my flock-plus-three gathered around.

"What was that all about?" she asked, her head tilted to one side. "You had us all really worried."

Iggy frowned, putting a hand on my shoulder and speaking softly, "It was the Voice, wasn't it?"

I bit onto my lip. God, I had no idea what to say—I barely even knew what had happened! What was I supposed to tell them? That my fake-sister-but-really-cousin might be the Voice? That the Director was still out there, along with Omega, who I really hadn't given a second thought about since Germany? That somewhere, because I refused to believe that it wasn't true, there existed a little girl with Fang's face and my eyes? And Dylan—what _had_ happened to him?

How was I supposed to explain _any_ of it?

_Tell them the truth._

I nearly jumped straight out of my skin, causing Ig to jerk back into Nudge. _Voice?_ I paused, waiting desperately for an answer, and the flock seemed to stiffen around me, too. _…Becca?_

It was quiet and tense for a moment. I held my breath, and my heart all but stopped beating. There was no reply.

Angel's hand slipped into mine, shattering that awful feeling in the air. "What did it say, Max?"

I gave her a little smile. As usual, she knew it all without me ever having to say a word.

"It said that it was good to see me again."

I let this sink in for a moment, pulling Angel closer to my side. Wren tilted her head, considering this, and asked, "Do you think the Voice will be back?"

"Maybe," I replied, not questioning how she knew. She'd been cage-neighbors with Total, after all. As much as I loved that dog, was nothing if not talkative. I looked over at our new flock candidates, taking in Wren's furrowed brow and the one hand placed protectively on Jay's shoulder. Her brother's hands were loose at his sides, and those wide green eyes of his pierced mine. I shot him a grin. "So, who's hungry?"

I had the pleasure of watching the little boy's face light up like it was Christmas morning. Whatever test he'd given me, I'd passed with flying colors. Nudge and Gazzy both let out simultaneous sighs of relief, slapping high fives and causing the rest of us to laugh.

Until Ella brought up the fact: "But you guys eat a ton, don't you? Who'd have enough money to feed us? Not to mention the fact that it's two in the morning, and everywhere will be closed."

Iggy chuckled, putting an arm around my sister's shoulder and sweeping the other one out grandly. "Ahh, Ella, welcome to the life of a run-away bird-kid, where we steal for a living and ransack twenty-four-hour McDonald's like there's no tomorrow." My teasing second wasn't able to see the shock bloom across Ella's tan face, but he certainly felt it when she stiffened like a board.

"You _steal?_"

She was so shocked, so aghast, that we couldn't help but burst into laughter. It was like a floodgate had opened, all of our pent-up anxiety and tension and worry was _gone_ in that one instant, where we all crowded together in a giant group hug and laughed so hard we could hardly breathe. I ended up getting smashed between Nudge and Fang, both of whom were genuinely grinning. _I missed this,_ I realized as I drew my arms around my motor mouth and ex-boyfriend. He wasn't on my good side yet, not by a long shot, but I still loved having him there. Truth be told—and you _never_ heard me say this—we just weren't a flock without him. But what I missed the most was being able to laugh with my flock like this, in the face of probable doom. We were going to go down in flames, but we were finally _together_.

"All right, guys, back into the van!"

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Nudge was the one who ended up forking over the Max Card, ending Ella's worries and her rather hilarious rationalizations of our criminal activities. (It was okay that we stole, she told herself, because technically, the government only knew about a flock with wings, right? So a wingless flock doesn't exist. So we're flying under the radar. So we weren't _totally_ bad people, right?)

After nearly twenty minutes of "Are we there, yet?" and eight of my passengers practically bouncing off the walls, we finally pulled up to the first open Mickey D's we found. Everyone jumped out of the van as fast as they could, drawn to the call of real food and a real _bathroom_. We _did_, however, have enough sense to loan Wren and Jay jackets before they climbed out. Lord knows I didn't need _that_ added to my list of troubles.

I flipped the Max Card over in my hands as Iggy and I stood in front of the counter of the fast food place, debating our order. The rest of the flock was either in the bathroom or waiting at the gas station nearby with Total—who, much to his frustrations, couldn't go inside—and Ella—who was filling up the van.

"What about just order, say, two hamburgers for each of us, and a whole bunch of chicken nuggets, and maybe a few large shakes? And lots of soda?" Iggy's hands clenched and unclenched agitatedly. I knew he wasn't feeling so great in here, with all the unfamiliar background noise and the obnoxious radio.

I pinched my lips together, considering. "I don't know. I mean, _twenty_ burgers?" I met the gaze of the bored-looking young woman at the counter. She appeared to be college-aged, with thick black eyeliner and lots of ear piercings. "Miss? How many burgers can you make for us in say, five minutes?"

"How many do you want?" she asked me in a flat tone, smacking her pink bubble gum and hooking her thumbs into her pockets.

I flicked a glance to Iggy, and, with his super-blind-kid powers that let him sense when I did so, he nodded encouragingly. I sighed, giving in, and approached the counter. I did end up ordering twenty burgers, and the cashier just raised her eyebrow and inputted it with the rest of our late-night dinner.

"Are you sure you can pay for all of that?" She seemed vaguely cautious, like we were fooling her or something.

I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes and handed over our life line. The cashier glanced it over, quirking an eyebrow and looking back up at me. "Your name is Maximum Ride?" she asked in disbelief.

I nodded tartly, and then immediately prayed that she didn't ask for an ID. While I had my driver's license, it was for Riley Kimmel, not a non-existent Maximum Ride.

She just shrugged, swiping the card and asking for my signature. As I swept the pen across the receipt, a gruff voice from the back shouted, "Oi, Kit, you _can't_ be serious!"

Kit-the-Cashier rolled her eyes, turning slightly to holler over her shoulder. "The money is good, Frank! Just give them their damn burgers!"

It took ten minutes to assemble our entire order on the counter—twenty burgers, eight things of fries, ten things of chicken nuggets, five large shakes, seven large sodas, a couple salads that I would force the flock to eat, and the biggest latte they could make, so I wouldn't totally die on the road.

Gazzy, Nudge, and Fang helped extract our meal, and in no time we were once more barreling down the highway, everyone's mouths too full to even attempt conversation.

"Max?" Gazzy leaned forward between me and Iggy.

"Yeah?" I sipped at my latte, chancing a quick look back at him as I drove. "What's up?"

"Can we stop somewhere? We've been in here for a while, and…"

He was cut off by Jay's timid, "I wanna sleep outside." Wren instantly shushed her brother, her mouth full with about half of a quarter-pounder.

"We're fine," she hurriedly corrected, swallowing and gulping down a giant sip of lemonade.

I shook my head. "It's really okay, Wren." She didn't want to overstay her welcome, I knew, but her brother was still a kid. "Ig? What say you?"

My blind pyro thought for a moment, but he might have just used that moment to scarf down the last of his chicken. After a pause where he chewed and swallowed, he looked over to me and said, "Yeah, that sounds okay. Personally, I'd like to get out of here, too. But we'll have to have a watch and stuff, like we used to." He cracked that mischievous grin I knew too well—the one that means _something_ would be bursting into flames in the near future. "We can even get a campfire going and pretend it's the good ol' days."

Behind his smile and the easy-goingness of his words, I caught what he _hadn't_ said. _The good ol' days, when we had our wings_.

"It's set, then." I pitched my voice back to the rest of the car, so they could hear. "Guys, we're going to find someplace to stop and camp out, okay?"

The back of the van chorused their assent, ranging from Gazzy's pumped, "Cool!" to Nudge's relaxed, "All right."

There wasn't an oasis for another twenty miles, and by then everyone was getting both restless _and_ tired, though I wasn't sure how it was possible. I guessed we all just wanted to have a chance to stretch out, as opposed to the sitting in the cramped confines of the van.

When I finally pulled to a stop at the back of the lot—behind the Donley County Safety Rest Area, so we were out of sight of the interstate—Nudge and the Gasman were the first ones out.

I laughed a little at the two of them, dancing around with their arms thrown out, as I climbed out of the van. Here were two of the strongest, toughest people I knew, and they were dancing around like maniacs. Was Nudge really the age I had been when all of these shenanigans had started in the first place? How come I never had the chance to dance around like that, with such abandon?

_We wouldn't be around if you had, Max. You kept us safe all those years we were on our own._

I looked over at Angel, who'd appeared by my side. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face. "Thanks, hon," I said softly. "You know, I wouldn't have traded those years for anything."

She grinned, leaning against me and watching her brother frolic about, laughing maniacally. Iggy and Ella had been pulled into the strange dance as well, and now the four of them were twirling around, switching partners as if they how to dance.

"Are they always like this?" I heard Wren ask somewhere to my right.

Total chuckled in reply. "You, my friend, haven't seen _anything_ yet."

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Yeah, so this is an awful filler chapter. I apologize. I fixed up the wording, though, so maybe it's a little better. (My sentences were REALLY long before… it was like I was Nudge, or something.)

Not much for you to comment on. Maybe you _can_ review, though? I promise the next chapter will be better… :) (Get ready for some fluff!)

I've really got a lot planned for you in this story. There will be a lot of set up here, when everything is said and done. (Like with Incredible, only more-so.) There will be plotholes, and there will be bits and pieces that don't totally add up. But that means I'll have a lot of play when Indestructible rolls around. :D

**Review Song Theme:** Umm… I'm running low on themes. If you have a possible idea, tell me, and I might use it! (You'll also get, um, 3 muffins!) So… the theme is… Guilty pleasures. Do you have songs you're ashamed to admit that you actually like? Tell me!

So, my first guilty pleasure is **"Good and Broken"** by **Miley Cyrus**. I know, I know, she's so three years ago and she's _Miley_, but… I like the song! It's about empowerment and breaking those chains that bind you. It's all fast-paced, and it really gets me pumped. So… yeah, now I'm all embarrassed. *hides in the corner*

My second guilty pleasure is **"Bullseye"** by **Aly & A.J.** Yeah, another Disney-influenced song. I don't know… this song is all, like, BA or something, with a really strong rocker-guitar bit, and I like the spoken lines: "You didn't ask me for my number/Wait, you didn't ask me for my number/Hmm/I like the fact that/You didn't ask that/'Cause you already got my number, huh!" So, yeah… *hides again*

**To Ari**, the wonderful anonymous reviewer, who had some questions that I had to answer: No, it really wasn't like that. Max doesn't exactly know. It's more like, um, the whitecoats did it to see if they could. There was none of THAT, I promise. Also, your review had me simultaneously cowering in fear and holding back laughter. I AM a terrible person… (But thanks, I really needed that!)

**Good News:** Today was my VERY LAST color guard/winter guard/flags competition. (Our JV Finals—we were the only flags team there, so, of course, we won first, haha.) Meaning, I have three extra nights to myself during the week (Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were previously occupied) and I have the weekends back. Get ready for some awesome new chapters!

One last thing: Muffin Match stats are current—go check them out!

Your faithful author,

Lea


	7. ANGEL SPOILERS read with caution

I apologize for this non-chapter, I really do. I promise the real chapter will be posted in a couple hours, when I can write it and feel satisfied.

See, I just got Angel. Read it in, like, two hours. (Save the stuff online, the first 23 chapters.) Am: infuriated, anxious, aggravated, upset, confused, worried, nervous, bitter, crying… you name it.

From here on out, there will be spoilers. If you don't want to know them, go away. I'll be ranting for the next hour (in my time) or so about the book, and my crazy theories. Don't let me spoil the book for you. (Read it. Just do it. Make your own decisions and don't let anyone else influence you. But don't ruin it for yourself. Read this afterwards, if anything. Please, please, _please_.)

So, once again: **SPOILER ALERT!**

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So, I've determined that it's just like Star Wars.

Wait a second and hear me out before you go off and say I'm crazy, please.

So, I love the whole Doomsday Group (DG for ease), and how Max is actually trying to _save the world_ again! (*does a happy dance*) That's good, that's fantastic. (GOD, we needed it!) But I, a die-hard traditionalist, believe that Itex is still connected with this, too. It's _my_ opinion that this Mark guy and the Director and Dr. GH (thus Dr. Chu, too, and Brigid, who we haven't heard from in a while. [I wonder what happened to her…]) were all working for the same person. Somebody we haven't met yet, that's calling all the shots and is making all the decisions. That's why I'm privy to the whole Star-Wars-Emperor-Palpatine idea. Who knows: maybe Jeb's working for this mysterious wackjob, too. It makes sense, right? There's a guys who wants to rule the world (or universe, if you're looking at it from the Star Wars perspective). If he gets the good guys and the bad guys to fight each other and everyone ends up either dead or seriously depressed/weak/unable to fight, then he wins.

And then there's Max/Luke/Anakin/Harry Potter. (My dad believes that Harry Potter is just like Star Wars, with Dark Vader/Voldemort and Harry Potter/Luke Skywalker. If you think about it, there _are_ similarities. But I digress.)

Over all, plot-wise, I liked it. It was mainly set up for the next book, leaving lots of plot holes, and I hate that nothing was really set in stone. There are WAY too many open endings for my liking. (Sort of like the first part of the Deathly Hallows movie. For non-Potter fans, you'd be seriously irritated that not a whole lot happened in the movie, but you'll be pleased to know that the next half will be epic.)

I'm just worried that JP can't pull it off in one more book… (He definitely can't settle all the sub-plots, unless he uses the same answer for all of them: EMPEROR PALPATINE!)

That's my decision.

Now, I'm supremely anxious for the next book. (Which might be Iggy? I'm not sure. I just hope this last book is long, epic, and that it leaves me satisfied. If I am unhappy with the ending, there _will_ be blood spilled…)

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Plot Holes:

Ella, Dr. M, Jeb, and the Voice. Where'd they go? I liked that Total was here, more, though. (He's just awesome. I'll admit that I cried a little when he called Max, "Maxilicious." I mean, isn't _Fang_ the _Fangilicious _one? It just made me sad…)

Also: in the battle scene at the end, there was a mysterious part where Fang showed up to help Dylan fight, yet he also seemed to be there with Gazzy and Angel? I'm confused, and Max wasn't too concerned. So, here's my rationalizing of _that_, because it's driving me crazy: Gazzy was almost finished and said he'd be fine, so Fang raced up to go help everyone. When he thought that they could handle themselves, he went back down there to help again.

Also: HOW COME WE DIDN'T GET TO SEE WHAT HAPPENED? I expected JP to tell us what went on down there, too. I mean, I'm positive they had a deep, meaningful conversation. I'm sure Angel got him talking. But we didn't get to see ANYTHING!

Moving on…

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I liked the Eggy here, since it was cute. The Pod-Ig and the Pod-El were creepy, though. (*shivers*)

This was the suckiest point ever, but anyway…

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Characters:

I think everyone was more in-character here. I loved how the flock stepped up and had their own little shining moments. It was great, I think. (Ig with the Pod stuff and being The Answer, Nudge with the cell phone, and Gazzy in Paris. Angel stepped up, too. On that note, I think she ages, mentally, faster than the flock does. She's WAY too mature to be seven. I think she matures like a dog, or something.) And Total just makes me happy.

Ella… worries me. I don't like how she ran away. I don't like how no one _cared_, really, that she ran away. On that same note, I don't like how nothing was done about Jeb and Dr. M. But it makes sense that they could have been brainwashed. (I'm just saying: Star Wars!)

I like Fang's Gang (the name is awesome, hands down). Holden is the best (HE'S A STARFISH!), Ratchet is funny, and Kate and Star have their own personalities and quirky-ness, which is cool. I wish we could have seen more of them, though. I feel like there could have been more Gang-behind-the-scenes chapters than there were.

Now… this stupid love triangle thing. I HATE Mylan, because no one can pull it off here. (If there were good Mylan fics, I MIGHT like them, emphasis on _MIGHT_. [Also, I don't see Miggy as being plausible, which is why I don't like it. In my mind, both Niggy and Eggy are plausible, seeing as he's had lots of history with Nudge and Ig and Ella just seem to click. But Miggy? Sorry, no.])

So, I have to say that I hated Dylan in the first 23 chapters, because he was all of a sudden a smart ass and a good fighter. It irked me, because the Dylan in FANG (Capitalized to distinguish between the book and the character) was actually sort of likable, in an little-kid-doesn't-know-much-about-the-real-world way. But, throughout the book, I think I liked him a bit better, and he was maybe… (dare I say it…) a good match for Max.

*ducks from the array of sharp, flaming objects being thrown*

See, he kind of foils her. (Lit term, meaning he is her opposite.) He complements her roughness and her spunk and her hard edges, because he's all softy and goo-y, like Silly Putty. He's very malleable, as a character, but he's also very rigid, too. Like, he's got her back, and he believes in her, and he trusts her, but he also knows when to back off and when to stand up for things. That's cool.

Maya, I'm not sure about her. Let me get back to you when I'm through with somebody else…

Fang… he irked me in the first 23 chapters, too. He is in thought or something (I want to say right before he meets Ratchet) about how Max wouldn't understand what he was trying to do. HELLO? Of COURSE Max would get it! I mean, she'd understand if he just sat down and explained things. But he didn't. Because he's Fang. (And I love him, but that's beside the point.) (Also, I'm curious if he has a Voice or not. And how Maya knew he was contacted [be if via email or through a Voice] about saving the world. That's a little freaky. [Also, also, I think Angel's Voice, Max's Voice, and Fang's Voice are all the same person, and that is the freaky overlord Emperor Palpatine fellow who has his hand in everything. He also might be the one who has Angel, at the end.])

Got a little side-tracked, but I'm back; We were on Fang.

I think he did a good job with his gang, but (again) I wished we got to see more of them. When he kept fighting with Max, I just think they quit it too early. Not enough was said between him, and then he just left… I get that he has his own gang and responsibilities now, but… It makes me sad. I liked that he hugged her at the end, though. That gave me a little hope for the two of them. (Also, how he's so peeved with Dylan. I mean, I can see the guys getting along under normal circumstances, but it pleases me immensely when they get mad about Max. Because it means that Fang might end up with Max, in the end.)

See, I think James Patterson wants Max to end up with Dylan. That's why he's writing the books this way. He wants Max to have somebody she can _fit _with, like a puzzle piece. Which is why it was so beautiful when Max and Fang got together. Because they _didn't_ fit together. They were combustible, more so than Max and Dylan. They butted-heads and yelled and screamed at each other and broke the flock in half, but all of that made it all-the-more beautiful when they got back together! Because they were _perfect_ for each other! They are each other's right wing, and they're beautiful when they're together.

But I don't think they'll end up together, which breaks my heart clean in two. I think Fax, as we know it, is over. And this kills me, because there is no better, no more epic, no more _amazing_ romance than Max and Fang. Somebody on their profile… (it's killing me, but I can't remember who… *does a mad search*… It's Strawberry Shortcakes123!) Okay, she says this (quoted exactly, so she can't sue me, because SHE SAID IT AND NOT ME!): **"****I am completely obsessed with Maximum Ride at the moment, and even more so with Fax... even though the series has taken a turn, not necessarily for the better, I still think James Patterson has been**_**brilliant**_**with the whole Fax thing. I've never read a book or watched a movie or TV show where I could see just how much is represented in a relationship. It's deeper than anything I've ever seen before. Max and Fang's relationship is affected by their personalities, their family, their "family", their past, their present, their experiences, their current situations, people they're [acquainted] with, where they've been, where they're from... it**_**fascinates**_** me."** There you have it: Why Fax is the end all, be all. (I agree whole-heartedly, by the way, with her words.)

So, I am PRAYING, with all my heart, that Max and Fang will overcome their big-headedness like they did before and end up back together. I HOPE that they can mesh like they used to. And I BEG JP to let them get back together. Because if they don't, and the world is still saved… it would be like Killing Harry Potter. (An event so tragic, it had to be capitalized.) If James Patterson Destroys Fax For Good (and knowing his track record, I'm not sure he can even do _this_ well…) then the series would have been nothing short of a giant letdown.

But… if he can give them closer, and they _don't_ end up together, I'd be amazed. I'd applaud him, even. (Does anyone remember my fic "Achieving Peace, In Five Simple Steps"? In it, Max and Fang _don't_ end up back together. The only reason I bring it up is because I've gotten a lot of compliments on it. So, if you want, maybe go check it out and review? That would be awesome. I'll even give you a muffin or two, if you review.)

But I don't have much faith in James Patterson. Which is why I'm nervous about this last book. (I'm not sure he can do it. I hope he can, but I'm not sure.) It just kills me that we have to wait until 2012, and knowing the media (also known as the Disney Channel Original Movie Syndrome [DCOMS for short], where they say a movie will come out during a season [IE, 'This summer"], but it really doesn't. [HSM2 was a 'this summer,' but didn't come out until the last weekend of August, or whatever. Camp Rock 2 was a 'this summer,' and we didn't get it until SEPTEMBER.]), we'll have to wait until the last half of 2012. Who knows? The world might end before we get the end to the Maximum Ride series. (God, how ironic would that be?)

Now, HUGE tangent jump, but I haven't even hit Max or Maya yet.

Well, since we don't really know much about Maya, I don't know how I feel about her. I thought she was killed in Germany in STWAOES, but apparently not. (I was hoping for that, anyway. But I think Omega is down for the count. Maya was brought back for the drama.) I can see why Fang brought her on as a fighter, but it irks me that she's Max II. I mean… I don't like it. She seems like a replacement. Then, Fang's body has all of these instinctive reactions to her, (proving that he STILL LOVES MAX!), but he's like, "She's her own person, she's not Max." Honestly, I see them (or I'm hoping that they end up) more as friends. Because (as stated above), Max and Fang are the End All Be All Relationship. (Suck on _that_, Edward and Bella!) The thing is, Fang keeps telling us that Maya is her own person, but we don't actually _see_ much of her, or not enough to my liking. (Once again, I wish there was more of Fang's Gang.)

And, finally, we have Max.

I've kind of touched on her a bunch already. Basically, her brain has three modes in this book: Save-The-World, Protect-The-Flock-(And Family), and DYLAN-OR-FANG-OR-DYLAN-OR-FANG? It's kind of obvious which mode takes over when.

One of the biggest decisions she made, which I don't think even JP realizes was a big decision, was her choice not to trust anymore grown-ups. That's _huge_. This is saying that we won't see more of Jeb, or Dr. M, or Dr. GH, because Max is going to kill them as soon as look at them. (Definitely Dr. GH, maybe Jeb, possibly her mom.) Max was always grown up and more mature than other people, but she's actually _different_ here, making more 'big-girl' type decisions, like that one. And the choices to leave her Mom and Ella. That was huge, too. (But she also wanted to go find them, so we know where they're headed when Book 8 starts.)

I think she's doing as good a job as she can as a leader, since her brain is in turmoil and she can't decide between Fang (who needs no words to describe him, his name is enough), and gooshy-sweet/romantic/supportive/confusing Dylan. She's definitely got her flock under control now, as opposed to when she and Fang were together. (Their relationship was never natural in the books, I think. There was a lot of sexual tension between them for so long because Max was the leader and she never thought of herself first, so when they finally _were_ together it was a lot of intense make-out sessions and not-focused-ness. If they do get together (which they had better), I hope their relationship is more natural, that they have balance. (If there was only one flaw with Fax, it would be that there was no balance.)

And, the sad thing is, I think Dylan might be more balanced than Fang is. *sighs sadly*

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Well, that's pretty much all I have to say. I've exhausted all of my Angel-worries, and hopefully you'd like to rant with me. If so, please PM me, so we can rant in private and not spoil the book for anyone.

I've most-definitely been fuelled to finish this trilogy, because there are a lot of plot holes Angel has left open that I think could spawn a million and one brilliant fanfics. (I'm keeping my eyes peeled. If you see a good post-Angel fic, tell me, and I may go analyze it. For incentive: You'll get muffins!)

As a reminder, you've offered two opportunities for spontaneous muffins: by reviewing my fic "Achieving Peace, In Five Simple Steps", and by finding good post-Angel fics. These will last the entirety of this story, which is long. (I'm at 158 bullet points or something for the outline, and I've barely started working on the climax.)

So, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, and I promise that I won't ever stop writing, and together we can rant about the wonderful, spectacular, epic series that is the Maximum Ride books.

Your faithful author (and devoted fan),

Lea


	8. 06: Once Upon A Prayer

**Because I'm cheating, this chapter is posted for Project PULL… a day late.**

**The theme song for this chapter is "Dear God" by FM Static.**

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**Indescribable**

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Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

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**Chapter Six: Once Upon A Prayer**

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"_Are they always like this?" I heard Wren ask somewhere to my right._

_Total chuckled in reply. "You, my friend, haven't seen _anything_ yet."_

**Friday, November 26****th****, 2010**

We all sat around the campfire, talking and laughing and just _being_ with each other. It was fantastic.

The stars glittered above my head, happy with us that we were out here again. I was glad to be here, too.

Iggy nudged my shoulder with his elbow, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Max?"

"Hmm?" I reclined a bit, leaning back onto my palms and stretching my legs closer to the fire.

"People are starting to fall asleep, so can I do something, first?"

"Will it explode?"

"Nope."

"Sure." I sat up, a little startled when Iggy grabbed onto my hand. I noticed he did the same with Gazzy, who was on his other side. My hand found Ella's on instinct, helping to close up the circle we made around the fire.

"So, while I was in Dallas," Iggy explained quietly, and I squeezed his hand for support, "the Wallace's were really religious. We went to church all the time and said grace before dinner and stuff like that. So, um, I'd like to… pray."

I shot a glance at my second in command. He was strung tight, it was obvious, but his face was also calm. He really wanted this. "Sure," I murmured, giving his fingers another squeeze.

Ig's face gave a glimmer of a grin, and he bent his head forward, his eyes fluttering closed. Everyone did the same, even Total, whose paws were in Angel's and Wren's hands respectively. I looked up, out at the sky, and the blinking stars above us. _If there really is a God, he or she is out there, in amongst all that brilliance._ My eyes fluttered closed as my second started to speak.

"Our Heavenly Father," Iggy began softly, his words mixing with the crackling of the fire. Other than that, it was silent. "I thank you for bringing me back to my family, and giving me my memory back. I didn't even know I missed them so much until they found me again. Thank you for not leaving me in the dark all this time. I'm glad I got to be normal for a little while, too, I think I needed that. I wish I could have said good-bye to the Wallace's. They're good people, and I ask you to protect them from everyone that is after us, Itex and the School. They don't need to become apart of this mess. Thank you, oh Lord, Amen."

"God," Angel's voice filtered in through the silence that followed, sounding innocent and hopeful, "please keep our fake momma safe, too. She was nice, I guess; she really did care about us, she just had a lot on her plate. Make sure she doesn't worry too much. And thank you for letting me be normal for a little while. I really liked school, and I loved learning everything we did. I'll miss my friends a lot. I wish I could have said goodbye. Thank you, Amen."

Nudge spoke up, too, and she sounded close to tears. "Dear God, thank you for letting me make normal friends. I know I never would have been able to otherwise. I'm going to miss Dani and Mrs. Hyatt a lot, and I hope they don't worry too much. Please make sure that Dad doesn't get mad at them—it wasn't their fault. I'm so glad I could find everyone again, and I really want to save Max's mom. Amen."

"Thanks for bringing the flock together again, God," Gazzy murmured, almost too softly for me to hear, "and thanks for letting me remember again, but I really just want my wings back. Amen."

"God, please help us find Ella's momma and Lettie, and let Max keep us. Thank you for letting me see Fang again. Amen."

My eyes flashed open, looking at Jay across the fire. He was looking up at the stars, too, with an expression of awe on his face. _Who was Lettie?_

"Dear God," Wren whispered, cutting my thoughts short, "Please protect my brother and me, and the flock, too, as we go save Max and Ella's mom. Thank you for giving me this chance to get out of the Institute and make things right. Amen."

"God, thank you for bringing Maximum Ride back to the world," Total murmured, "and for letting us get out of the Institute. Please help us to get Dr. M out of there. Amen."

Ella spoke next, squeezing my hand as she did so. "God, thank you for bringing my sister back to me, and please help the memories come back. I trust that Max is my sister, but I'd like to actually _remember_ her. Please help us save Mom, and help her get back to normal, too. Thank you so, so much for helping us get out of the Institute. Amen."

I had absolutely nothing to say to this. My flock, the only people who mattered in my life, had just poured their hearts out, to a man—_the_ Man? or was God a woman?—who I wasn't sure I believed in. Did they, really?

It was obvious, in the silence that followed, that either Fang or I should speak. Yet… I couldn't seem to form the words in my head. Sure, I _was_ thankful for things—my flock, my memories—and I was scared, too—about mom, and I _desperately_ needed to find a way to get my wings back—but did I really need to worry everyone like that? I was the leader, I wasn't supposed to scare them. _Damn, this is so hard…_

Fang didn't give me much time to think, since he spoke up next. "God? Thanks, Amen."

Iggy laughed a little next to me, and I had to admit that it _was_ funny. Then I realized that he'd probably said a boatload in his head… leaving _me_ to fill in his silence. _Thanks, Fang._

I closed my eyes tight, not wanting to have to speak up. I mean… I'd _just_ remembered everything—_just_ found out about Mom, _just_ found Ella and the flock—I'd _just_ stepped back into my leader role. Like wearing a new pair of shoes for the first time, I didn't feel comfortable in my skin yet.

So, I decided to pull a Fang, and do my largely-personal rant inside my not-so-private head.

_Dear God, if you really are out there, thanks, I guess. I mean, I'm thrilled to be back here with Ella and my flock, and Wren and Jay don't seem too bad. And, I guess, it's nice that Fang's back, too. I might have missed him a whole lot, maybe. Possibly. But I am glad to be out here, free, and with my memory again. You and I both know, though, that I'll do anything to get us our wings back, and find my mother. If there's anything I have to ask of you, it's that you help us. Please. We really need it. Love, or, er, sincerely, Max. Amen._

"Thank you," I murmured, just so everyone would know I contributed. Leave it to somebody to jump on me for not sharing my feelings. Angel, of course, heard all of that. "Amen."

After that, everyone agreed that it was time for bed. We left the fire going, just stopped stoking it, and widened our little circle, spreading out and trying to get comfortable on the ground. I practically demanded that I take first watch, and Iggy just laughed and lay down next to my sister, who seemed to inch closer to him. _Great, now I have to keep and eye on those two._

"Max?" I crawled over to Angel, Nudge, and the Gasman, who had all been talking in low voices. Nudge was the one who spoke up now.

"Yeah, sweetie?"

Nudge bit her lip, looking to the two siblings for support. They nodded, and she admitted sheepishly, "I want to call my family. I want them to know I'm okay."

"We do, too," Angel added, elbowing an irritated Gazzy in the arm. "Can we call them in the morning?" Her eyes widened the slightest bit, watering enough to make them shine. When I looked to Nudge, her eyes were the same, all big and brown and sad…

Damn those Bambi eyes. "All right," I sighed. She _was_ right, though. We didn't need our pictures over the news—which they probably were. If we could get our 'families' to calm down, then maybe we could get my mom out of the School's clutches sooner, and I'd do anything for that.

"Thank you!" Nudge wrapped her arms around my shoulders, quickly followed by Angel. The Gasman just sat there, frowning at the dirt.

I hugged my two girls back quickly, before reaching over and patting Gazzy's shoulder. "You don't have to talk to your family if you don't want to," I tell him.

He relaxed slightly at that and looked up and met my gaze. "Thanks, Max."

I decided, right there, that I'd find out why he was being so distant. He was my little trooper, and he'd never been this moody before. Maybe I could get Fang to… No. This was my job. Plus, Fang wasn't even on my good side yet. "No problem," I replied, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze, then bade the three of them goodnight. As I made my way around the circle back to my spot, Jay reached up and grabbed my hand.

"Hey, Jay," I said with a smile, crouching beside him. Next to me, Fang stiffened a little. I could feel his body heat, he was that close, but I tried to ignore the way the hairs on the back of my neck rose. _He's right there, Max…_

"Max, can you tell me a bedtime story?" Jay smiled at me.

Wren's gaze was hard, and practically stabbing, on my other side, but I sat down anyway and pulled the seven-year-old into my lap. "What kind of story would you like to hear?"

"Tell me about your old house. Total said you lived in an E. What was it like? Were there any other letters? I once saw a book about animals that lived in letters, was it like that?"

I smiled, wrapping my arms around this little kid who actually _acted_ like a little kid. Angel had grown up pretty fast, like I had, and so we never had much of her acting like this.

Everyone seemed to perk up around me, as if waiting for what I'd say next. Even Wren seemed interested, though I still could sense her stiff gaze.

"Well…" I had to pause and pull out memories out from under the mental rugs where they'd resided for two years. Slowly, I began to explain our story. "Once upon a time, there were six kids. These kids were special, however, because they had real-live, workings wings." I stroked Jay's feathers absent-mindedly, feeling grit come off between my fingers. As I talked, I straightened and began to groom his wings, getting out the caked-in gunk and dirt.

"There was Ariel, who was our baby. She was the littlest and the sweetest of us, and she was only six. She was pretty special, since she could read thoughts. She had a brother, whose name was…" I smiled at a sudden memory, one from an interview nearly three years ago. "Captain Terror. Despite his name, he wasn't all that scary. Wait, I take that back. Even though he was eight, he _was_ pretty scary. He could make things explode like nobody's business, and he had a pretty messed-up bowel system. On top of that, he was great at mimicking voices. He caused a lot of fights with that little talent, the little sneak."

Laughter shook through our circle, and I felt my heart lift when Gazzy grinned at me over the dancing flames.

"Next was Tiffany-Krystal, who talked enough for two people, so she got two names. She was the only one of us who really cared about what she wore, yet this girl was awesome with a computer. If the flock had let her, she probably could have broken into the Pentagon, easy. She was eleven." Nudge beamed at this, too, her eyes shining with tears. I smiled at her and continued, "There was Jeff, who was fourteen. He couldn't see, but that just made the flock love him more. He could make things explode like Captain Terror could—they were partners in crime—and he was the only one of them who could cook. Their leader most-definitely couldn't cook to save her life."

"God, can she even cook _now_, Max?"

"Hey," I glared at Iggy, but my voice was light, "don't interrupt, _Jeff_." Jay laughed, all light and happy and bubbly, his wings shaking beneath my fingers. "I'm not about to answer that question," I retorted, giving Iggy the answer anyway.

"Anyway, if it weren't for Jeff, the flock would have starved. Now, the flock's leader was special. She was an awesome fighter, the best mom, and—"

"Way to be modest," Nudge joked.

"Seriously, if you want to listen, you'd better shut up!" I lifted an eyebrow, daring anyone to cut me off again. Nudge looked sheepish, but she was still smiling at her feet. "Now, where was I? Right, their leader was a great mom, and she loved her flock very much. They were her whole world, and she'd do anything to protect them. Her name was… Becca," I blurted, the name of my fake-sister-cousin being the first one that came to mind, "and she was pretty special, too. Or crazy. She had a Voice that talked to her, telling her to save the world."

I rubbed my dirty fingers on my jeans, not knowing how to continue. It was obvious which flock member was left, since he was the only one I had yet to mention. But… how was I supposed to talk about him? "The last flock member was named Nick, and he was special, too, but for different reasons. He didn't have special powers, or, not until later, at least, and he didn't talk much, though he was the flock's strongest and best fighter, next to Becca, of course. Well," I leaned forward, whispering into Jay's ear, "he might have beaten her one or two times." He giggled again, shying away.

"He was definitely really smart, too. Nick was the one who figured out how to use the computer when the flock was first on their own, and if it weren't for him they wouldn't have known anything about the real world at all. He was Jeff's other best friend, and the closest thing to a father that Ariel, Tiffany-Krystal, or Captain Terror had. But…" I closed my eyes, losing myself in the memories, "what really made him special was that he was Becca's best friend. She knew that, if she was ever worried or scared, or she thought being the leader was too hard, she could always go to Nick and talk to him, and he'd make her feel better. Nick and Becca always had each other's backs, and they could tell each other anything. They were inseperable." My eyes flew open when I felt Fang's hand graze mine, briefly covering my dry, dirty knuckles with his own callused hand before moving it away again.

"The flock lived in a secret house, way up in the mountains. They called in the E-shaped house, because it looked just like a capital E from the air. The bars of it hung over a cliff, supported by stilts, so in the living room, some of the bedrooms, and the study, you could almost pretend that you were floating. If any one of the flock hung their head out a window, they'd never get scared, because they knew that, if they fell, they could always just fly back up again. That's where they lived for four years, protecting themselves and looking out for each other, until…"

I trailed off, shifting the now-sleeping seven-year-old into my arms. "Until they realized that, sometimes, the world needs protecting more than they do," I murmured, sweeping his hair off of his face and setting him down next to Wren, who'd fallen asleep, too. Instinctively, she reached out and wrapped an arm around her brother, pulling him against her chest, where he was safe from harm.

"You can trust her," said a voice behind me. I turned and met Fang's gaze.

"Yeah, I think so. The question is," I wondered aloud, half to myself, half directed at him, as I made my way around the circle, "can I trust you?"

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Because I liked where this ended, I'm stopping here. Not a whole lot to say, since I did a major rant in the Angel A/N that functions as the previous chapter. I've had some trouble writing recently, trying to find the right words, but I think I'm working through it. This story should be coming easier. (It helps that I'm in a post-Angel high, and I'm in Max-speak-mode.) I'll try to get another chapter up by Tuesday, does anyone have a problem with that?

**Review Song Theme:** Let's see… what are songs that, when you hear them on the radio, you'll bust out and sing to, but you don't actually have on your iPod/MP3 player?

For me, it's anything by **Maroon 5**, because I just love their music, but I haven't gotten around to getting any of it on my iPod. My favorite song by them (at the moment) is… **"Harder to Breathe"**. I just like the catchy-ness of this song, and how easy it is to sing along with. Really, the only lyrics I know in it are, "Is there anyone out there?/'Cause it's getting harder and harder to breathe." But that's most of the song, so it's all good. :)

"**Forget You" **by **Cee Lo Green**. Now, normally I'm okay with songs with swears in them, but if they're repeated often it jars me and makes me uncomfortable (especially when I don't see it coming). That's why I like the clean version of this, too. Why? Because it's a fun, catchy song, all about self-empowerment, and honestly, I find it amusing when swears are implied, but not actually stated. Lots of Shh-ing in this song, which makes me laugh.

So, has anyone read Angel yet? If you haven't, GO GET IT! If you have, what did you think? Try to be covert, if you review. I don't want anyone getting the book spoiled for them. Why don't you just state "Angel Spoilers" at the top, if you're about to rant about the book?

Thanks so much for all of your continued support guys. If it weren't for readers as awesome as you, I wouldn't even be writing in the first place. :)

Your faithful author,

Lea


	9. 07: Sleeping On It

**Curse Alert: Minor things, in abundance. (It's mainly Max and Fang, since everyone is asleep. They aren't cussing each other out, though. Not like Chapter 22 from Incredible [though that was one of my favorites. ;) ] )**

**The theme song for this chapter is "I'm With You" by Avril Lavigne.**

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**Indescribable**

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Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

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**Chapter Seven: Sleeping On It**

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"_You can trust her," said a voice behind me. I turned and met Fang's gaze._

"_Yeah, I think so. The question is," I wondered aloud, half to myself, half directed at him, as I made my way around the circle, "can I trust you?"_

**Friday, November 26****th****, 2010**

I sat down a little ways away from the fire on the red, baked dirt, leaning up against a boulder. Fang came and joined me, and from our position we could easily watch over the eight sleeping members of the Save-Max's-Mom Association.

For the first time in I don't know how long, the air between Fang and I was thick, uncomfortable. I didn't like it.

"So, how was life for you, you know, after you left us?" I couldn't help it; my question came out bitter.

Fang seemed unfazed, though. "I was looking into more Schools. They're working on a new generation of experiments—the Gen 77's. These kids have less animal-gene splicing, and more genetic enhancements. Super speed, hearing, strength, stuff like that. Finding Wren and Jay was an accident, but… I don't know. They grew on me, I guess." I chanced a sideways glace over at him; Fang was looking up at the sky, a slight smile on his face. Just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. "We were trying to break into this place in Arizona, where a lot of Gen 77's were rumored to be taught. They captured us easily." His eyes closed, and a flicker of worry passed over his face. "They're working on something, Max," he murmured, "something big. We need to be ready for it when it comes."

I nodded thoughtfully. "And just like that, I've got to save the world again, huh?"

The corner of Fang's mouth quirked up in a rare smile, and he looked over and met my eyes. Our gazes locked, and for a moment I was able to see through his layers of protection, to that Fang I'd fallen in love with three years ago. Then it was gone, and we were glancing away at the same time.

"What was it like, being normal?" I asked now, just to fill the silence. Maybe it was because I was curious, or maybe it was because I wanted to tell him everything that happened to me. I wasn't sure.

Using air quotes, he said, "My 'mom' was nice, I guess. Not like, connected, or anything. She called her sister a lot, but she'd never let me meet her." Fang shook his head, frowning down at the dirt. "It was weird. I'd hear her laughing on the phone with 'Aunt Ana from Calistoga,' and when I'd ask her if _I_ could talk with this woman I'd never met and was supposedly related to, she'd get all stiff and nervous, and then would hang up as if it was nothing." His frowned deepened, but when he looked up there was laughter in his eyes. "Jeb tried to convince me he was my father."

I made this strange, giggle-snort-hybrid thing, and then quickly slapped my hand over my mouth and nose while Fang chuckled. I stuck my tongue out at him. "Jeb's an idiot. You look _nothing_ alike."

He shook his head. "You'd think that would tip me off. But I actually look more like my 'mom.'" He was looking up at the stars again, looking wistful. "We had this epic oak behind our house, and I'd spend half my afternoons up there, just thinking. I actually remembered you a hell of a lot, without really remembering you." He chuckled again, turning and gracing me with a small, genuine smile. "I had a job at a music store at the mall in town. There was this girl there once, who had hair that looked a lot like yours," he grabbed a lock of my hair, smoothing out the fly-away's and humidity-induced frizz, analyzing it in the moon- and fire-lit darkness, "and I just freaked out, thinking it was you. But her eyes were the wrong color." My ex tucked the lock back behind my ear, his dark, burning eyes meeting mine. "I expected your eyes," he said quietly.

I dropped my gaze, bending away. Unconsciously, we had leaned into each other, and now-miniscule distance between us was suffocating. I had to get out of here.

"What was it like for you?" Fang asked quickly, pulling away and dropping his hands. "I mean, we all know I was never a 'social flower'…" He rolled his eyes, doing air quotes at the absurdity of it all. I had to laugh at that—I mean, when did you ever hear the words _Fang_ and _social_ in the same sentence, let alone _flower_? It _was_ crazy. "…But what about you?" Those fathomless eyes of his were expectant, and I had to look away.

"They broke me," I whispered after a pause, digging my fingers into the red dirt. "The memory-loss made me so messed up that I was a freak at school, so _that_ was easy. Not. And since they _really_ wanted me broken, they had to give me to this messed-up family that had enough of their own problems. I had three perfect, _beautiful_ older sisters, except the youngest of them ran away from home before I even really got to know her, and then she suddenly _wasn't_ my sister. She was my cousin. And my 'dad' absolutely hated her, so they fought when she ran away and they fought when we were all together for Thanksgiving…" I sighed, hating how weak I'd become—how weak _they'd_ made me. "And since I was stupid and gullible and didn't question anything, I believed that they were my family. And then they lied like that… I'm still not sure if I can look at these people the same, even forgetting the fact that I know I'm not really their daughter."

"Are you going to call them?" He'd reclined against the boulder, staring up at the sky once more.

Of course, my wonderfully-articulate answer was a stunned, "Huh?"

"Are you going to call your family? The kids all said they wanted a proper goodbye, but are you going to talk to _your_ 'parents'?"

I barked out a laugh. "Yeah, 'cause that would go well." Pitching my voice higher, I pretend to talk into my hand as if it's a cell phone. "Yeah, hey Mom. Guess what? I'm not really your daughter! I'm a genetic freak who had her wings removed somehow, and my real mother's gone mental and we have to go save her from the people who created us! And remember Becca's episodes? Well, I really _do_ have a Voice in my head—and, get this, it keeps telling me to _save the frickin' world!_"

"Becca?" Fang tilted his head to one side, his eyes lighting up with recognition.

His response wasn't what I'd been expecting, if I'd expected one at all: Fang sat forward, an eyebrow cocked, eyes glinting with something I couldn't place. "Becca was my youngest older sister," I explained. "She split out on us about two years ago."

"Dark hair, dark eyes? Kinda looks like you?"

"Yeah, but what are you _talking _about? How do you _know_ that?"

"She works for Jeb."

"_What?_"

"Your sister works for Jeb," he repeated, eyes wide to drive his point home. "He's doing some under-cover CSM-type stuff, breaking up Schools and Itex-owned places, and Becca checks them out."

I can hardly think of a response. The only thing running through my mind is, "How the hell do you _know_ this?"

"I told you, Becca works for Jeb. I ran into her a few times. She said she heard voices, too." His eyes went back to the dying fire, as if remembering something. "And she told me she's seen things—experiments. Then… she gave me this weird look, like she _recognized_ me or something."

"Why would Becca tell you any of this?" I knew Rebecca, too, or, at least I thought I did. And she wasn't the type of person who'd randomly spill her life story to a stranger—even if it was her boss's son.

Fang gave me a wry smile. "Apparently, I'm easy to talk to."

I socked his shoulder. "Smart ass." But his confession made me uneasy. Something didn't fit. "This doesn't make sense. Why would _Becca_ be involved with any of this?"

He shrugged. "Hell if I knew."

Surprise, surprise, I didn't feel any better. "She found the E-house, did you know that?" By his confusion—a raised eyebrow in Fang-facial-language is equal to an unhinged jaw for most people—I assumed that was a no. "She was hiking in Colorado, and she found it. No one had been there in ages, she said. Heck, our breakfast dishes were still in the sink." I ran my hands across my knees, an uneasy feeling knotting in my stomach. "It's almost as if—"

"They'd been expecting us to get back together."

"Exactly." I sighed, a familiar weight—the weight of the world, no pun intended—settling on my shoulders. We were in for a fight, that much was certain. "Jeez, first a new generation of super-mutants, now creepy coincidences and unanswered questions… sounds too much like the plot of a badly-written bestseller." I sensed Fang smirking next to me, but I was far from at ease. "And we have to go find Mom and get her as far away from the School as we can… _without_ our wings."

"Don't forget the possibility of facing off against an army of Gen 77's, plus the resurrected Erasers. And Itex in general." Fang's shoulders slumped a bit next to me, as if he was emotionally exhausted, too.

"Right, right." I smacked my forehead, as if I had just thought of this. "And what about Dylan? Where did _he_ end up, anyway? Ella said Dr. GH is in charge of our mom, and Anne and the Director are back, too! Jeez!" I threw my hands up at the sky and the stars, as if they could possibly give me the answers I needed. "Why can't these people just _stay_ out of our lives?"

"Max, Max," Fang sighed, "that would make life _easy_. And God forbid life actually be _easy_."

Our eyes met at the same moment, and then I was laughing, snickering, chortling while Fang chuckled and shook his head, both of us unable to stop even though we knew we were too loud. (Okay, _I_ was too loud.) We leaned into each other, both shaking uncontrollably. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I gasped out like a fish, causing Fang to snort, which got me giggling again.

I didn't know how long we were laughing like that, so at ease, as if the world _wasn't_ crumbling at our feet. But by the time we'd gotten a hold of ourselves, the fire was merely a dull glow, and Total shifted, as if he'd heard us.

I straightened, unable to stop myself from grinning. Like earlier with Ella and her wonderful obliviousness, this laughter had accomplished something—something big. Next to me, Fang had a small smile on his face as well, his eyes wide and alive.

"We can do this." The young man I used to trust with my life looked at me, tilting his head a little. "We can _do_ this, Max," he repeated, taking my hand and squeezing my fingers tight. "We don't have to go it alone."

Even though his words were honest, and his face was uncharacteristically open, and he was putting himself out there, I pulled my hand away, any ease I'd felt with Fang flying out the metaphorical window. He just _had_ to bring it up, didn't he? "Is that why you left us, then? Because you knew we could do it without you?" I wasn't sure how I wanted that to sound, but it was definitely bitter, definitely angry. "It wasn't just to spite us?"

"_That's_ why you thought I left?" Fang turned away, his face hardening into that familiar mask, the one I could read like the back of my hand. "God, Max," he growled, hands clenching into fists. "Don't you have _any_ faith?"

"Not when you break your promises." I hugged myself close, remembering how _his_ arms had wound around me, so long ago, after we'd been separated for so long. "Remember that promise, Fang? The one where you wouldn't split us up anymore? What happened to _that_?"

He didn't answer for a moment, and I thought he never would. When I glanced over, to see if he would ever respond, I was surprised to find Fang with the heels of his palms pressed tight to his eyes.

"Don't you think if I actually _remembered_ I would have told you?" The words were soft, furious, and ever-so-slightly scared.

"What?" Every drop of—pointless, stupid—anger in my system slipped away. "What do you mean, you don't remember why you left?"

"Exactly that. I remember writing that note, and something about my laptop, and the blog, but everything else is… fuzzy," he muttered, angling his shoulders towards the fire. I'd turned to face him, but now Fang wouldn't meet my eyes.

I really had no words for this. I mean, I could have been feeling anything, mad, upset, elated… but I wasn't. Just worried, confused. "I don't like this," I whispered. "Something's going on. And we are _so_ unprepared."

"You think?"

"Shut up," I whacked Fang on the shoulder, not bothering to lighten it, since he needed to sink out of whatever self-hating funk he'd fallen into in the past few minutes. "Seriously, don't you think we were really out of it earlier, with the Erasers? One got me by the _neck_, for crying out loud. That never would have happened before, I'd have kicked ass as soon as look at them. But we let the Erasers _sneak up_ on us."

"We just need to practice, Max," Fang said with an eye roll, as if I was overreacting. "This is easy to fix. We all _know_ how to fight, except maybe Ella. But she's a quick learner, and she's strong. Everything is instinct for us, anyway. We may have been out of it, but don't tell me you _really_ had to think about what you were doing."

_Damn_. He did have a point. "Okay," I admitted grudgingly, "so our fighting skills just need polishing, not total reworking. That's a little better, I guess. But we're still wingless, and…"

I didn't even have to continue. As soon as I said it, my stomach dropped, and I felt all the blood rush out of my face. "Shit." The words came out of my mouth in a whisper. "We don't have wings." Because that is _totally_ a problem that normal people have everyday. You know, never.

Fang didn't have a response, for once. I sneaked a peek at him—he was pale, too, though only his eyes really showed anything. They were darting around, from me, to the stars, to the barely-there embers of our fire, and back again.

"We're screwed," we whispered, at the same time. I reached out for Fang's hand just as he reached out for mine; we were both too scared to do anything but hold onto each other.

"How'd they even take our wings _away_?" I murmured, scooting closer to him. Out of everyone in the flock, Fang would understand the most why I could hardly breathe, why my heart was going three times as fast as normal, why I felt like half of myself.

His eyebrows came down as he frowned, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. I blinked, remembering how he used to do that when we were at the E-shaped house and Jeb posed a particularly difficult problem for us—trying to hide the charred remains of Iggy and Gazzy's latest experiments, for example. The memory, so random and unexpected, made me smile.

Fang shot a look of confusion my way, and I let the smile drop. "They probably reverse grafted our wings," he said after a pause, shaking his head. "The opposite of what they did to Ari, and that one generation of Erasers. They didn't want to kill us—and taking away our wings permanently would be the same thing, right? If anything, they would have made sure we could get our wings _back_, in case they ever needed us again." The words themselves were definite, confident, but his face was not.

"You really think so?" I asked, my voice coming out in a whisper. I leaned into his shoulder, needing someone by my side who _understood_, even if it was Fang, and I still wasn't sure where we stood yet.

He nodded. "Or, we can fake it at least, for the kids. You're pretty good at that, aren't you?" The corner of his mouth rose in a small, teasing smile.

That's when it hit me—we would _never_ be able to go back to before, before our wings were taken away, before we lost out memories, before Fang left, before Angel was stolen, before, before, before. We could never move backwards, so why even try, bringing up past grudges? Right now, Fang and I were on the same side. We both cared about my mom, and we both needed to solve our flightless problem. So we, or, I, needed to stop acting like we went to rival high schools. We needed to patch this up. We would never be a couple again, or, never the same couple we were when we were fourteen, but Fang was still my best friend, my right-hand-man.

I smiled back, knowing full-well that he could read me like a book. "Thanks, Fang," I murmured, squeezing his fingers.

His hand tightened around mine, those fathomless eyes of his flickering between a million different emotions. "No problem, Max."

I locked our fingers together briefly before I stood, slipping out of his grasp and over to Iggy. I felt Fang's eyes on my back as I walked, but something in his gaze seemed to relax when I tapped Ig on the shoulder.

"Huh?" My second sat up blearily, rubbing at his eyes and turning away from my sister.

"Your turn for watch, Ig. Wake me up in a few hours."

"'Kay," the blind bodyguard yawned, stretching his arms out, before sitting up straight. "Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bugs bite," I replied with a smile, returning to the boulder where Fang sat, an eyebrow quirked.

"What?" I asked, settling down on the ground.

"Nothing." He shifted, lying down next to me, close enough that I could hear his breathing, but far enough away that one of us could stretch out an arm and barely graze the other's shoulder. I let out a sleepy sigh, this long night, and my giant latte, finally catching up with me.

My eyes fluttered closed, and I rolled onto my side, propping my head up on my bent arm.

"Max?"

"Yeah?" Fang's hand found mine in the darkness, but I didn't bother opening my eyes. All I wanted was to sleep…

"Are we cool now?"

"What…?" I was half delirious. _Why are you asking me questions now, Fang? I just want to sleep…_ "Of course we are."

It was quiet after that, and I found myself giving in to blissful unconsciousness. But as I fell deeper and deeper into the black, I could have sworn I felt a pair of lips brush up against my fingertips…

I chocked it up to an active imagination.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Gasp! Was that actually… _Fax_? Maybe. ;)

I can't make any promises about updating anymore, guys. (Though I will make it once a week.) But this date thing is just… now working. (It's partly my fault. I was trying to multitask and do two stories at once, and it's not working.)

The other half is huge, I guess. My great-grandmother died on Tuesday. She was basically another grandmother for me and my siblings. The wake was yesterday, and the funeral was today, but… It's so weird. Like, I saw my parents, and my little sister, and my brother, and everyone else crying and I was there when they put her into the ground… but she's just not _gone_ yet. I can't explain it.

I'm going to be out of it, writing wise, for a little while. (This chapter did make me feel better though. I got out of my post-Angel Max/Fang/Dylan freak out.) I hope you guys can understand if it takes me longer between updates.

I also want you to know that I love you all, each and every one of you readers. I love watching that little stats-graph soar, to see how many readers we've racked up in the past few days. You're all incredibly important to this story. If it wasn't for you, seriously, we wouldn't have made it this far.

Also, don't be afraid to send me a message. No one has yelled at me yet for not writing. (Frankly, sometimes that is all that I need.)

**Review Song Theme:** Thanks to OnyxEagle01 for this: Do you have any songs that can get you to cry when you listen to them? (Either in a good way or a bad way, your choice.)

"**The Man Who Can't Be Moved" **by **The Script**. This song is just to sweet and hopeful. It seriously brings tears to my eyes every time I listen to it. I can just picture this guy, standing on a street corner potentially forever, waiting on the girl that he still loves. (That's devotion, right there.) The lines I love: "There's someone I'm waiting for/If it's a day, a month, a year/Gotta stand my ground/Even if it rains or snows/If she changes her mind/This is the first place she will go."

"**How To Save A Life" **by** The Fray**. This song haunts me. I don't exactly understand it, or the meaning behind it, but the emotion in this song is so raw, so pure. To me, it feels like somebody's died, and this guy is just saying, had I done this, this, and this, than you'd still be here. On further investigation, the internet says it's about him mentoring a drug-addicted teen. So, I was wrong, but that still doesn't take away from the power of this song.

Hmm, do you think we can try for 14 reviews today? Push us up to 135? That would be greatly appreciated!

Your faithful author,

Lea


	10. 08: Phone Tag

**For Project PULL!**

**Plot Thing-Bob: So, I'll be incorporating a few things from Angel, like the idea of the Gen 77's, and my theory on an evil overlord who is in charge of everything and everyone on **_**both**_** sides. But we will NOT be seeing Fang's flock, nor will the Doomsday Group be making an appearance. So, if you haven't read the book yet, you won't spoil anything by reading this, too.**

**Curse Alert: Yeah, swears again. (I did warn you, though.)**

**The theme song for this chapter is "Call Me" by Shinedown. (It's beautiful, go listen to it now!)**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Indescribable**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Chapter Eight: Phone Tag**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

_It was quiet after that, and I found myself giving in to blissful unconsciousness. But as I fell deeper and deeper into the black, I could have sworn I felt a pair of lips brush up against my fingertips…_

_I chocked it up to an active imagination._

**Friday, November 26****th****, 2010**

Jeb nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone began to ring.

He'd fallen asleep at his computer, watching the latest news reports of the flock's battle at the Dallas stadium. He needed to see what the world knew, or what they _thought_ they knew, about his talented young experiments.

"Hello?" he answered, nearly dropping the cell as he brought it to his ear.

"You took him to a _football game_?"

"Hello, Phoebe." Jeb leaned back in his office chair, passing a hand over his face. _This is going to be good._

"Jeb, they were on _national TELEVISION_. Just WHAT were you thinking? You _know_ I'm going to get hell about this! What do you think Anne or the Director will say? I could lose my job! Jeb, _they could go after my sister!_"

"I know, I know," he sighed, looking out the window at the building across the street. Its windows were reflective, and only showed a mirror image of this office building. "But you know that those kids deserve—"

"Did you know that they were _safer_ when they were split up? Jeb…" On the other end of the line, Fang's pseudo-mother's voice broke. "We split them up so they could have a second chance at being normal. So they could have a second chance at _life_. And you brought them all here, got them all together—don't tell me you didn't have any hand in this, Jeb, I know you did—for what? So you could play God again? Because it worked out _so_ well the first time, you know. Where did those kids end up then? Oh, yeah, they were nearly _killed!_"

"Phoebe, you have to know that I'm thinking about the greater good, here," the aging scientist tried to explain, but he was cut off by a sharp laugh from the phone.

"It's always the greater good with you, isn't it? Your first daughter was an unauthorized experiment that you sent away, Max got herself captured and her memory nearly erased permanently, and Ari is _dead!_ I'm surprised you still believe you can help the world, Jeb, what with your track record with _your own children_."

"Stop! Phoebe, just stop." His words were hard, biting. But the damn woman had a point. "You and I _both_ know that I'm not the only one with regrets."

Phoebe sighed, her voice suddenly defeated. "Tell me, Jeb, just what was your plan, getting these kids back together? Why do you keep fighting for them? What do you have to gain from any of this?"

Jeb found himself chuckling. "See, Phoebe, it was never about what _I_ gained or lost. It was always about the flock, always. The six of them mean the world to me, and it's their job to save the world. I need to do everything I can to help them accomplish that," he explained. "You would never understand, anyway. You've never had children, so you wouldn't know how their lives"—_As well as their goals and hopes and dreams_, he thought—"become more important than your own."

"I wouldn't understand?" Even through the receiver, her voice was angry, deadly. "_I_ wouldn't understand a mother's love for her child? _I_ wouldn't understand those primal, protective instincts?" She laughed darkly, a sound devoid of any humor. "You don't know anything, Jeb. You were a scientist, so none of this was ever your concern. _You_ didn't hand-select the children that would become your precious experiments—they were already there when you needed them. _You_ didn't have to watch the parents—those innocent mothers and fathers—and have to be the one to lie to them and say that their children were _dead_, or be the one who snuck them out past the nurses and the doctors. You never heard their cries of horror, of anguish. You didn't see their _faces_, Jeb."

"Phoebe—"

"Want to know something else? _You_ never stayed with them because you _had_ to. You stayed because you _wanted_ to. You never had anyone to fight for. That's what makes us different. I'm here because I'm _fighting_ for someone."

Jeb managed to bark out a laugh. "You honestly think I don't have anything to fight for?"

"I really don't know, Jeb. And I don't _want_ to know. I don't want to give a _damn_ about what you're doing anymore, because really, it's none of my concern. They'll send people to get me soon enough anyway; it's only a matter of time. But this time will be different. This time, when I finally leave, I'll be gone for _good_. I'm _going_ to get these people off of my back and I _will_ break out of this hellhole. And this time, you can't do anything to stop me."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"_Aieeee!_"

Max bolted upright, her head spinning wildly as she scrambled to her feet in the early-morning light. "What's going on?" she asked, wide-awake, spinning to find the source of the noise. Her eyes landed on Nudge, who stood three feet from where she'd fallen asleep, clutching at her heart.

"S-s-s-snake!" she shrieked again, grabbing onto a drowsy Gasman and hauling him backwards, away from the two-foot-long snake slithering closer to the dead fire pit.

"God!" Max jumped backwards and crashed into a confused Fang, all the fight gone as her heart nearly burst out of her chest.

"What's going on?" Iggy demanded, while Ella nearly decapitated him as she jerked backwards with an alarmed yelp.

By this point, everyone else was awake, slowly backing away from the dark brown reptile, its long body flecked with patches of red and gold.

"It's just a snake," Wren said slowly, as if reassuring herself. Jay had his face buried into her stomach. "We're freaking out about a snake."

"It's a _big_ one!" Nudge protested, her eyes still wide and panicked.

Total barked in approval. "Christ, it's longer than I am!"

Fang gave Max's shoulder a squeeze and looked over at Angel, who was probably the only one of the girls whose heart wasn't racing. "Is it poisonous?"

She only shrugged, but Iggy asked, some-what harshly, "What does it look like?" Ella quickly described the offending snake, and he chuckled. "It's just a broad-banded water snake. They're not venomous."

"But it's _huge_," Max whispered, unconsciously pressing herself closer to Fang. Then she seemed to snap out of her trance, moving away and squaring her shoulders. "Well, we're done here, so let's just clean up and get the he…_heck_ out of here," she said decisively, stumbling over her choice of words when her eyes landed on nine-year-old Angel and seven-year-old Jay.

Everyone obeyed, picking up their discarded jackets and shoes and jogging back to the van.

"So…" Max began, suddenly anxious, shoving her hand into her pockets as she shifted her weight on the asphalt, "who wants to call their parents?"

Nudge's face lit up considerably, and she began to hop from foot to the other. "Can I, Max?"

The leader nodded and began to pat herself down for her cell phone. "Um…"

"I've got it." Gazzy held up the offending device almost forlornly. He tossed it over to the bouncing fifteen-year-old, who shot him a blinding grin.

"Okay, into the car," Max instructed, shooing the flock into the van. "We don't want anyone to see us. I have a feeling spending the night at a rest stop won't exactly be appreciated."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Nudge settled into her seat next to the Gasman, her hands shaking as she typed her father's cell phone number in.

It rang once, twice, three times, before switching over to voice mail.

"Hello, you've reached John Bennet," said her father's voice." Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks."

Then the beep, and she was talking a mile an hour to fit everything in. "Hey, Daddy, it's me, Nu—I mean, Clara. I just wanted you to know that I'm fine, really, and I hope you're doing okay, too. If you watched that football game last night, you might have seen us. I bet we're all over the news. Daddy, just don't worry about me, okay? I don't know if I'll be able to see you again, but I just want you to know that I love you so much, and you've been so awesome. Please don't call the police or anything, I'm safe, really. And I really do love you. Bye."

She considered handing the phone over to Angel, who wanted it next, but thought better of it. She quickly typed in her best friend's phone number, waiting anxiously as it began to ring.

"Hello?"

"Dani!"

"Clara!"

"_Oh my gawds!_ Mom! It's Clara!" Danika's voice was shocked, surprised, and frantic, all at once. "Clara, what the _heck_ happened? You get this call, run off, and then you're _gone!_ We called security, but nobody saw you, and then when we got back to the hotel you were on the _news_, fighting these werewolf things… just _what_ is going on?"

"Oh, Dani…" Nudge felt her heart sink. "I just ran into some family—my cousins—and we have to go… visit my sick aunt. She really needs us right now, and I really need to be here, with them. I'm so sorry."

"But you didn't even say _goodbye_."

That nearly broke her heart in half. "I know, I'm so sorry. Dani, this is my goodbye. If I can call you again, I will. I don't know when I'll be back, if I ever will, but…" Nudge's eyes were filling with tears, and it took all she had to keep the tremors out of her voice. "I love you so much, okay? And please don't go looking for me, or send anyone else out looking for me. I'm in good hands now. Dani, thank you a million and one times for being the best ever, okay?"

"Clara…"

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking as she pressed the _END_ button.

The van was silent, and she knew everyone had been listening to her conversation. "Who wants it next?" Nudge asked, attempting a weak smile even though she felt like someone had taken an axe and chopped her heart in half.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Twisted around so she was leaning against the back of her seat, Angel frowned at her brother, listening to the phone for a moment. "Gazzy, talk to mom." She handed him the phone, giving him a stern, pointed look.

"No!" He pushed it away, only to have it shoved into his face once more..

"_Talk_ to her!"

"_You_ can talk to her, since _you_ were her favorite."

"But I want you to talk to mom first."

"I don't want to—"

"Hello?"

The Gasman was cut off by the voice of his 'mother.' She sounded out of breath, worried. But not for him, he knew.

"Hi, Mom."

"Michael?" She gasped, and something clattered, like it had been knocked to the floor. "Michael, is that you?"

"Yeah…"

"Dear _Lord_, Micheal?" she exclaimed, her voice easily rising in volume and anger. "Do you have _any_ idea how worried I've been? You climbed into a strange car and just _left_, without any note or a number! What were you _thinking_? Did you _want_ to give me a heart attack?"

"I was _thinking_ we needed to help a friend!" the Gasman exclaimed back, his blood boiling. "And since when do you actually _care_? You _never_ care about us, or pay any attention to us! It's always work for you! Maybe I wanted to go find somebody who actually _listens_ to me!"

Gazzy shoved the phone back to his sister, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the window. The van was silent, as if stunned. He could feel Max's eyes on him in the rear-view mirror.

A warm hand settled on his arm. "Are you okay?" Nudge asked softly, as Angel began to speak softly into the cell.

The twelve-year-old shrugged, brushing her hand away.

"Gazzy, you know that we love you, right?" Nudge wrapped her arms around him quickly, pressing her lips to the top of his head, before scooting away to give the boy some space.

Her gesture of kindness, while alleviating his anger, did nothing to help the racing of his heart or to calm his frazzled nerves.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"Hey, Momma."

"Isadora, dear, is that you?" Angel frowned at the sticky-sweet tone, knowing full-well that this woman had been furious moments before.

"Yeah, Momma, it's me."

"Oh, Izzy, dear, how are you? Are you hurt? Are you safe?"

"I'm fine… Momma, you haven't seen the news, have you?"

"No, not yet, why?"

"Oh," Angel sighed, "It's nothing." She suddenly felt very small, talking to this woman who was supposed to be her mother. _Max is a better mom, any day_. "Momma, don't worry about us. We just… we have to help Max." Even as she said it, she knew it to be true. "Her mom needs Max, and Max needs _us_. But we need her, too, Momma. We've got to save Dr. M. Then we might be able to come home. Maybe. If not, I love you, I really do. And thank you so much for putting up with me for as long as you did, even though you weren't always there for us when we needed you. Bye, Momma."

"Isadora, what are you saying? Don't you dare hang up on—"

Angel snapped the phone closed with resolution, handing it to Jay—who sat in his sister's lap—and he in turn passed it to Iggy.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"Hello?"

Iggy felt his eyebrows draw together at the sound of his foster mother's voice. She sounded broken and fragile, like she'd been crying.

"Hi, Di, it's Aiden."

"Aiden?" she exclaimed. "Thank the Lord!" Her voice faded slightly, like she'd pulled the phone away from her mouth. "Andrew, get on the phone! It's Aiden!"

Iggy could hear the shriek of his name echo through the house, and soon he was bombarded by voices.

"Aiden! Where have you been?"

"Dude, where did you go last night?"

"Were you really kicking those monsters' butts last night?"

"Are you okay, Aiden?"

"Aiden! Where are you?"

Not to mention the chorus of "Let me talk to him!" echoing in the background. The noise alone was enough to make his eyes water.

"Oh, just put the phone on speaker!" a voice that sounded like Peggy announced, and suddenly everyone's words sounded a little more distorted.

"Aiden, where are you?"

_That's Diana again_, he reminded himself. "I'm on the road. I ran into…" he searched for an acceptable lie, stumbling across the same excuse Nudge had used. "Some cousins, and we've got some stuff to take care of with my aunt."

"What cousins?" That was Dave, and he sounded suspicious. "Because Mike and Izzy's mom called—she doesn't know where they are, either. And _they_ were on the news with you. You're with them, aren't you?"

"Aiden, what aren't you telling us?"

Iggy never knew Sarah could sound so hurt, to betrayed. _And she knows nothing about betrayal,_ he thought. "Listen, guys, I really am with family. And I have to be here now. I'm sorry for scaring you; I didn't mean to, things just got out of hand. But you guys—all twelve of you—will always be the best home-away-from home I've ever had. Thank you so much for everything."

"Wait, Aiden, aren't you coming home?" That was probably Jill, who was only seven.

"I wish I could, but we just don't know how things will go in the near future. It's safer to say that I can't ever come back."

A resounding "_What?_" burst from everyone's lips. "What do you mean?" Mr. Wallace demanded, his voice gruff and overly-tired.

"It's for your safety, you guys have to understand. You said we were on the news? Well, those man-wolf-monster things are called Erasers, and they might come back. I can't have them getting to any of you. I only want you all to be safe. Listen, if I can come back, I will. If I can come back only to give you all an actual good-bye, then that's what has to happen. I'm sorry."

The other end of the phone was silent—something he wasn't aware that the Wallace's could accomplish. "Bye Aiden." The words, or variants of it, seemed to ripple through the voices.

Mr. Wallace was the last one to say anything. "Take care of yourself, kiddo."

Then the line went dead.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"No, give it to Fang first."

She wasn't ready to say goodbye just yet, Fang knew. That much was clear from last night. But she knew it was inevitable, and therefore chose to put it off until the last moment. _Thanks_, he thought wryly, as Iggy passed the phone to Nudge, who tossed it over her shoulder without really caring where it landed. Gazzy was still giving the whole van the cold shoulder, but Fang wasn't surprised that no one was talking to him yet. Really, he'd only just sort-of fixed things with Max. The rest of the flock was a whole other matter.

Fang swiped the phone up off the floor of the van, staring at the keypad for a moment, deliberating whether or not he _really_ wanted to call his 'mother.'

_You don't have to be afraid._ Angel's thoughts whispered.

_I'm not afraid, Ange._ And he really wasn't. Just tired that the whitecoats had had their way for so long. But… he did owe it to Phoebe. No one else would have put up with all of his crap like she did.

He dialed her number.

"Hello, you've reached Phoebe Dinardo."

"Hey, Mom—"

"Sorry, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave your name and number, I'll try to get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks. Bye."

Fang couldn't hold back a sigh. "Right, hey Mom. It's me, Owen. Listen…" He struggled to think of something that could function as an alibi. After a quick, rather fruitless brainstorming session that really only lasted a few moments, he settled on, "Staying with Dad just isn't working, and I need some time to think, and figure things out. Don't worry about me, okay? I'm not worth it. Anyway, thanks for putting up with me, and everything. I'll call if I can. Love you, I guess. Bye."

As he hung up, Nudge spun in her seat, an eyebrow quirked. "You're definitely worth worrying over, Fang," she said matter-of-factly, holding her hand out for the phone.

Fang passed it up slowly, wondering if there _was_ hope for him after all.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

The phone landed in my lap, courtesy of Ella. "You need to call your family, too, Max," she said gently.

I sighed. My hands tightened on the wheel a little, and I felt my eyebrows pinch together. "Right, because it's going to go over _so well_."

"Max," Total interjected, propping his paws on the center console, "if you _don't_ call them your face will be on every Amber Alert in the country. We kind of need the anonymity right now."

I sighed again, annoyed that the dog, of all people, was the voice of reason. Behind me Angel giggled, whispering something to Total, who let out an indignant huff.

"Fine." I pulled over onto the shoulder, turning the car off. The road was still empty, save for the occasional car that sped past us faster than I could blink. I knew people usually hated two-lane country roads because they were so far from everything, but honestly, I loved them. There was no one to look twice at a van filled with nearly a dozen kids who couldn't vote. "Ten minute break, guys," I announced, turning around.

Angel whooped, slapping a high-five with her brother over the seat. Gazzy seemed to lighten up a little at that. _I've got to talk to him soon_. I'd only heard half of his conversation with his mom—his half—and I didn't like what I'd heard.

Everyone scrambled out of the van, letting out sighs of relief to be out in the sun again. Ella squeezed my shoulder as she opened her door. "Take your time," she said with a smile.

I nodded, looking down at the phone in my hands. _Do I really want to do this? Damn… what will they say?_ Well, Mom and Dad… err, Mr. and Mrs. Kimmel would be pissed, that was for sure. Rose would probably be mad at me, and Rachel would want me to come home, the peacemaker that she was. Becca… I didn't even want to think about her.

I felt eyes on me as I punched in the phone number to Rose's house. "Fang, aren't you going outside?" I didn't press talk, but I did spin around to see him, still sitting way in the back. We were on good terms now, but we both knew he had a long way to go before he was back in Gazzy, Nudge, or Iggy's good books.

"No." He shook his head, hiking over the rows of seats until he was sitting beside me. "You're going to chicken out. Angel thought I should stay here to make sure you don't."

I rolled my eyes. _Thanks, Angie._

_You're welcome!_

"Okay," I said softly. "Thanks." I gave him one last smile before squeezing my eyes shut and pressing the talk button.

_Brrriiing, brrriiing, brrriiing!_

"Hello?"

I fell back against the seat. "Hey there, Isaac. How goes it?"

There was a clatter as he dropped the phone. Sounding far away, he shouted, "It's _Riley!_"

Shouts seemed to echo from the other end of the line, and I could just imagine everyone running up to the phone. _I'm sorry,_ _I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, _so_ sorry._

"Riley?"

"Riley!"

"Riley, where are you?"

"Riley Elizabeth Kimmel, you will come back here right now!"

"Riles?" Becca's voice was soft, confused, and… angry? My eyes flew open.

"Hey, everybody."

"_What_ are you doing, young lady?" My 'dad' demanded. If I knew him at all, and I thought I did, he was probably glaring at the phone, his fists clenched.

"Um…" _Excuse, I need an excuse…_ "I'm with some friends."

"Riley," 'Mom' begged, sounding desperate, "where are you?"

"I think we're on Interstate 40." I winced when they cried out.

Rose spoke up. "Riley, who are you _with_?"

"Some friends—I saw them at the game, on TV, and I wanted to go say hi."

"So you just _left_?" 'Dad' demanded.

"Well… yeah." I couldn't even begin to explain what had been running through my head. Honestly, all I could focus on was Fang… and getting him back. The realization made me blush.

'Mom's voice sounded suddenly nervous, and scared. "Honey… what were those… those… _things_? You were on the news, and you were…"

"You were fighting these werewolf things," Rachel finished, her voice hard. "What's going on, Riley?"

"I..." _What the hell am I supposed to say?_

Fang squeezed my free hand. _You have to tell them,_ he mouthed. I nodded, slowly, frowning at the steering wheel.

"Look, I can't come home," I began, which only lead to another round of exclamations and shouts. "Please, just listen! Those werewolf things? Yeah, they're called Erasers, and they… they want me. They want to find me. But I can't let them." I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut again. "Look, they're tracking us, probably, and if I go back, they'll get you, and you don't deserve that. You didn't _do_ anything. You were just… brought into a fight that really wasn't yours."

"Riley…" Rachel sighed, too. "What are you saying?"

"You aren't really leaving, are you?" Rose sounded broken, wounded. _I hate you so much,_ I thought to whoever had put me in these innocent people's care. _When we get my Mom back, yours will be the first ass I kick._

"Look," I murmured, "I need time to figure some things out. This is partly about the Erasers, but partly about me, too. I just… I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend for you guys; it's too hard. I'm _not_ the person you think I am, really. I…" _I just can't tell you the truth._ "I have some things I need to do. My mo—a vet I know really needs my help right now, and there's a bunch of people I really care about, and we've got a lot of things to settle. Everything is so different now."

They protested and objected, saying that I had to come back, I was in so much trouble, and that I was being immature and just like Becca. (Twenty bucks on who said _that_ one.) "Look," I snapped, sure she was still there, "I'm not being like Becca. Becca is fantastic, and she's the best _sister_ a girl could ask for. Thanks for lying to me about that, by the way." My hands tightened around the phone, and I could have shouted right back at them. But I didn't. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this. You really don't understand, and I don't blame you. I just have a lot of things I need to fight for. I just…" I exhaled, leaning my head forward, onto the steering wheel. "I really do love you, all of you. You've been so awesome. I make no promises, but if I can, I'll try to call you. I probably won't see you again. I'm so, so sorry." My voice had gotten soft by the end, so I was almost whispering.

My ex-fake-family all said their good-bye's, some more reluctant than others.

My phone beeped, telling me that it was about to lose battery. _Shit_. "Bye," I said quickly.

Becca's voice calling out was the last thing I heard before my phone died.

"Bye, Max."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

I looked over at Fang, my eyes bugging out of my head. "You heard that, too, _right_?"

He nodded, frowning at the dashboard. "What's going on, Max?"

My heart was beating wildly in my chest, and the only thing I could think was, _Becca knows who I am. Shit. Becca knows who I am! Shit!_

So I answered as truthfully as I could. "I have absolutely _no_ idea."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Another filler-ish thing, I'm sorry. (But everything moves the plot along, I promise!)

Sorry for taking so long, but I like my updates to coincide with PULL days, since I'm taking longer to write the chapters.

This brings me to my new poll (on my profile): How long do you like your chapters? I got a complaint/suggestion from a reviewer during _Incredible_ that my chapters could be longer. And I've delivered longer chapters. But it also means that I take longer to write them. So… do you like longer chapters, and slower updates? Or shorter chapters, and quicker updates? Please go vote on my profile! This will really tell me how to proceed here. (Or, would you mind if I threw in a few shorter chapters amidst the longer ones?)

Also, I haven't forgotten about you, my loverly readers! I'm still keeping track of the Muffin Match (sorta… basically, I haven't deleted anything from my inbox since… forever. But you're muffins will be accounted for soon!) I'm going somewhere for the week (spring break, and no homework!) but I'm bringing my laptop. :D (Also, so you don't think I'm spoiled, this is the first time it's left the house. So there.)

**Chapter Review Song Theme: **Um… in honor of my 15-hour road trip—smashed into a Honda Odyssey with my obnoxious little brother and annoying little sister—road trip songs! (Or songs that make you fall asleep. For me, they go hand in hand.)

"**Love Drunk"** by **Boys Like Girls**. I know this song is so last year (or two years ago, or whatever) but I really like it. It's all preppy and angst-y, which is really hard to pull off. And I like the whole extended metaphor thing (we're doing poetry in English). It's witty _and_ catchy!

"**Darlin"** by **Avril Lavigne**. I just got her newest CD, and I am totally in love with this song. (What's really cool is that she wrote it when she was fourteen—yeah, I bought the deluxe edition. :P) It's not a love song, like you'd believe, but it's about stepping into your skin, and being happy, and growing up. And it's just so beautiful, and it's one of the few completely curse-free songs on this new album ("Smile" is loaded with them), so I can sing along with it and no one will get mad. :)

Thanks for putting up with these really slow updates, guys. I'm actually almost done with the next chapter (I've got an extra scene that I hadn't planned on, but I think it will help with the flow of everything), so maybe, MAYBE, you can get an update on Friday. But I AM on vacation. So… keep your fingers crossed. Also, I swear to Bob that I will get all the Muffin Match stuff up-to-date by my next update. (The Bob reference is from _You Killed Wesley Payne_, by Sean Beaudoin, and it's devilishly hilarious. Go read it!)

Love and Hugs (and many apologies),

Your faithful author,

Lea


	11. 09: Revelations

I apologize for this semi-boring chapter. Action really is coming, guys. It gets good soon, I promise. Hopefully? (Reviews let me know if I'm doing a good job, FYI.)

**Curse Alert: Okay, this is just getting annoying. For safety, please assume that there will be curses and/or swears in every chapter in the future. (I'll warn you when people are dropping f-bombs and stuff, though.)**

**Disclaimer: I stole some of Fang's note, just for you! (I give you permission to love me, or hate me, or whatever.)**

**The theme song for this chapter is "Dirty Little Secret" by The All-American Rejects.**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Indescribable**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Chapter Nine: Revelations**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

_I looked over at Fang, my eyes bugging out of my head. "You heard that, too, _right_?"_

_He nodded, frowning at the dashboard. "What's going on, Max?" _

_My heart was beating wildly in my chest, and the only thing I could think was, _Becca knows who I am. Shit. Becca knows who I am! Shit!

_So I answered as truthfully as I could. "I have absolutely _no _idea."_

**Friday, November 26****th****, 2010**

Becca could hardly see as she stormed into the office. The secretary's head snapped up, her eyes wide. "Sorry," she tried to say before Becca reached the office door, "but Mr. Ashwood will not be seeing anyone at the moment!"

"He'll see _me_," the young woman snapped, yanking the door open.

Her boss stiffened when she slammed the door closed, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes.

"Just _what_ is going on with my sister?" Rebecca demanded, slamming her hands onto his desk. Her boss seemed to shake himself from a daze. "You were at that football game, I saw you. And Riley was there, too, fighting those _things_ with your son! And I… I…" She growled, low in her throat, collapsing in one of the fancy leather chairs. "My headaches are coming back," she muttered, glaring at the floor. "You _said_ they'd go away with the medicine, and they did. _But they're coming back again!_" Her hands tightened around the armrest. "The voices…" she whispered heatedly, "they're coming back, too."

She remembered when Mr. Ashwood approached her, all those months ago, after she'd drunkenly confessed to her mental instability. He'd done something shocking, then. He offered her a job. It wasn't as if she really wanted to work somewhere, when she wasn't even sure what she wanted to study at college, or even if she _wanted_ to go to college, but one of his conditions didn't give her much choice in the matter.

He promised to take the voices away.

The other condition—she couldn't ever speak to her family again—was just icing on the cake, as far as she was concerned. The voices would finally be gone. She might have a chance to be sane.

Thus her beginnings as Mr. Ashwood's errand girl, running around the country in search of secret 'schools,' as he'd called them, where innocent human children were the subject of hundred upon thousands of horrible, grotesque experiments.

"You said that the medicine would make the voices would go away," Becca spat now, glaring at her boss. But really, she was _glad_ they were back. She'd only felt like half of herself when her mind belonged solely _to_ herself. It was still unnerving, though, that the voices decided to come back now, when she'd seen those _kids_ on TV. Riley, Mr. Ashwood's son, and the four others… _Could they _really_ be them?_

"Rebecca," her boss sighed, his eyes going strangely soft. That was something she'd always noticed about him—sometimes, he acted more fatherly than her _own_ father. Or, the uncle she'd always _thought_ was her father. "The medicine didn't really have anything to do with the voices. And you weren't the one to lose them—it was the voices that lost themselves. And now that they're coming back, you need to be prepared for that. I'm sorry."

He stood then, as if to dismiss her, but instead of inviting (read: ordering) her to leave, he moved over to an oaken cabinet set into the wall. She watched as he opened it, revealing a large safe with a number pad set into the front. He punched in a quick series of numbers, and the door gave a hiss as the locks released. The content of the safe was rather anticlimactic—nothing more than a medium-sized cardboard moving box. Her boss brought it over to his desk, pushing it across the varnished wood to Becca.

"I'm not the best one to take care of this now. I assume you'll keep this safe?"

The young woman frowned at the box, then at her boss. "What's in it?" She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm not going to take it if there's some sort of tracer in it, or something. With my luck, I'll step out of this office and a SWAT team will be after me sooner than I can blink."

Mr. Ashwood chuckled, reminded of a girl who was just as paranoid as his employee, if not more. "No, my dear. No SWAT team." His eyes went grave, then. "But you need to be careful with this. There is information in here that is…"

"Top secret? I'm well-versed in top secret, sir. You should know this by now." Becca fought back the urge to roll her eyes, but something about the box intrigued her. _What could be inside?_ She felt like a little kid, one who was given a Christmas present and told not to open it.

"More than top secret, Rebecca." Her boss frowned for a moment, as if determining whether or not he should add anything. "The contents of this box will be able to answer some of your questions, much better than I could. I implore you to take care of this; absolutely _no one_ must find this. I'm not even supposed to have it—all records say that it was destroyed two years ago. Do you understand?"

Becca _did_ roll her eyes this time. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Her boss nodded. "Thank you, Rebecca. Have a good day."

The young woman stood, taking the surprisingly heavy cardboard box up in her arms and walking out of the office.

There was something final about this departure, compared to all the other ones. Rebecca had a strong feeling that she'd never be back in this office ever again.

And Rebecca's instincts were almost never wrong.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Back in her little motel room, Rebecca sat down on the bed, staring hard at the cardboard box she'd deposited onto the thin comforter moments before.

_It's now or never_.

She pulled the Swiss army knife out of her purse—don't judge; it was very handy in numerous situations—and slit open the packing-taped top.

Sitting at the very top was a homemade picture frame, decorated with various shells and beads. But the picture inside it was one she recognized—she'd printed the same one out for Isaac only a few days ago. There were Riley and Owen, Mr. Ashwood's son, leaning into each other in the center of the picture, arms tight around the other's waist. To the left, with his hand thrown lazily onto Owen's shoulder, was a lanky, washed-out young man, with pale-blue eyes and fiery hair. Standing next to Riley was a beaming, blonde-haired boy with devious blue eyes. He gave a particularly mischievous smile to the camera, contrasted by the wide grin of the dark-skinned, wild-haired girl with her arms around his shoulders. Leaning into her was another blonde-haired kid, this one a little girl, with the same blue eyes as the boy, who could only be her brother. Her smile was wise, knowledgeable, yet deceptively innocent.

And each of them had a pair of gorgeous, feathery wings sprouting from their back.

"Oh God," Becca murmured. _These kids…_ She _knew_ these kids… _The flock!_

A sharp, stabbing pain pounded at the back of her head, and the young woman dropped the picture, squeezing her eyes shut and clutching at her head, expecting more. She waited for another round of aching, but nothing came. Her head merely throbbed pitifully, more of an annoyance than anything else. Becca opened her eyes slowly, pleased when the dull lights of her motel room didn't sting.

She dug into the box again, pulling out an assortment of what she supposed were necklaces; thick twine strung with various pieces of glass, feathers, shells, beads, pop tops, and two even had the matching halves of a snake jaw hanging in the middle. The necklaces would have been partially freaky, had Becca not been able to just _sense_ all the care that had gone into the creation of each one.

The rest of the box was rather anticlimactic. There was a two-year-old digital camera without any battery, a book-on-CD about zombies, an illustrated book about the history of dynamite, expired certificates for free tattoos, old fashion magazines and some about cars, a hodge-podge of wires and timers, and a heap of papers covered with lines and lines of numbers. She was mildly surprised to find two laptops sitting at the bottom, and was even more shocked when one of them had the word_ ITEX_ set into the top. Both were out of battery and looked relatively expensive.

"Why the hell would Jeb have these?" she murmured, frowning as she set the computers onto her pillow.

She rifled through the papers next, trying to find some sort of pattern in the list of numbers, but the only promising thing she could find were a couple of crossed-out words written in messy chicken scratch, barely comprehensible.

"_This_ is supposed to answer my questions?" Rebecca sorted the papers, feeling her face collapse into a frown. _Thank you, Mr. Ashwood. This is _really_ enlightening._ Even her thoughts were sarcastic at this point. If there wasn't anything important in the box—then _why_ did he give it to her?

Rebecca stood up, moving over to the foot of her bed. The rest of the dingy comforter was strewn with her spoils, but the box still sat there, looking hollow and wholly useless. She peered into it, about to fold the flaps in, and nearly slapped her forehead when she noticed that the box was not, in fact, empty. Of _course_ things were sitting underneath the laptops.

Cursing her own stupidity, Rebecca pulled out two laptop chargers (which would come in handy), a stack of heavy manila envelopes, a worn piece of paper, creased and folded into a little square, and a tiny velvet box.

_Who's is this?_ She couldn't help but wonder as she flipped it open, revealing a glittering platinum ring with a little cushion-cut ruby set into the band. Something about it was familiar, like she'd seen it before, through someone else's eyes. Just holding the little box, Rebecca felt her heart warm. _He really loves her._

Totally unbidden, the thought prompted Rebecca to snap the little box shut, stowing it away in her purse. _They'll want it back,_ she decided.

She unfolded the paper next. It was covered in the same chicken scratch from before, this time legible.

_Dear Max,_

_You looked so beautiful today. I'm going to remember what you looked like forever. And I hope you remember me the same way—clean, ha-ha._

That was as far as Rebecca got before she hastily folded the note back up and stuffed it into her purse. Her heart was beating wildly now, and she had to sit down, pressing a hand to her chest to calm her breathing.

"It's just one note," she muttered. "Just one note. It doesn't mean anything." _Please let it mean something._

She dug into the manila envelopes next. The first one was labeled 'FLOCK' in thick letters she recognized as Mr. Ashwood's. Inside were what appeared to be bio's, lists of birth certificates, social security numbers, names and addresses all over the country—Dallas, Massachusetts, Chicago, California. Her heart dropped when she came to a page with a young, smirking Riley's picture on it, the name _MAXIMUM RIDE_ underneath in bolded typeset.

Directly underneath were the words _Mr. and Mrs. Gregory and Victoria Kimmel_, followed by their address in Florida, the names of her sisters-now-cousins, and her name. Her full name—something she hadn't actually seen in a long time.

_Rebecca Arianna B. Kimmel_

Becca had to swipe the tears out of her eyes, though she wasn't all-too sure why she was crying. Somehow, that potent combination of Riley/Max's picture, so familiar but in a very different way, and her middle name was just that—potent, and painful. Becca wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep, or cry, or just let everything sink in. Because if this information was true, and she had no reason to believe that it wasn't, than it meant that the voices in her head were _real people_, and that Riley wasn't really her sister-cousin at all, but… some sort of genetic experiment?

She glanced back at the picture frame now sitting on her bed-side table, of the smiling faces of a family she'd never known, yet to whom she felt inexplicably drawn. _It couldn't possibly be true._

With a spinning head and a pounding heart, Rebecca threw the manila envelope back onto the bed, ready to sleep for the next half a century. Only, she jostled that irritatingly cryptic stack of papers, revealing a tiny index card. Even from far away, she recognized the handwriting. The clear, small letters had been scrawled with the practiced ease of someone who knew their hands well, and knew when and how to manipulate their letters.

Becca only knew one person who wrote like that.

She stared at the letters for half a second before leaning over and grabbing the Itex laptop, plugging it into the charger, and starting it up. She wasn't about to turn away one of the biggest pieces of information she could find.

Apparently, if Riley had taken the time to write down the URL for the site, this _Fang's Blog_ was pretty damn important.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Anne looked at her watch. Again.

Hans was late, and Valencia Martinez was not showing any signs of improvement. Anne observed as her newest problem chewed on the end of a whiteboard marker thoughtfully. Dr. Martinez tilted her head this way and that, frowning like a child stuck with a particularly difficult math problem, since that _was_ what the whitecoats had placed in front of her.

"This is wrong," she said, her eyes lighting up with confidence. The marker was removed and pointed towards a section of the work. She stood and thumbed away the incorrect variables, writing her corrections in with a practiced hand.

_Motor functions remain the same,_ Anne noted onto the patient's paperwork.

Val moved along to the final equation, clearing out the whole contents of the numerator. She scribbled in the altered equation, frowning once more before she turned around and said, "I'm done." Her eyes were wide and expectant, almost worried, as if she was afraid she'd gotten the answer wrong.

Before Anne could respond, Dr. Gunther-Hagen entered, flagged by two more neuroscientists.

"My apologies for being late," he said wearily, though Anne knew that tone—and it was not one of genuinely tired, or genuinely honest, people. "How is she progressing?"

"She isn't," Anne replied, her voice flat. She moved over to the lab computers plugged into one of the docks, inputting the data. _It only took her fifteen minutes to do what fifteen of our most talented did in three weeks._

Hans examined the whiteboard. "She solved the equation," he commented drily.

"Yes, but she hasn't _improved_." The scientist ran a weary hand over her eyes. _Oh, how Hans irritated her._ Sometimes, she considered just decking the man outright—or pull a Max, as she'd come to refer to the action. Anne turned to one of the neuroscientists. "Do you have the results?"

The shorter one, a balding man with too-large teeth in a very small mouth, nodded like a bobble head. He brought a clipboard out from behind his back—_How do they always _do_ that?_ Anne wondered—and read off the statistics. "All her vitals are stable, but her long-term memory has been damaged beyond repair. We're not sure there is a way to repair it without a total memory wipe."

"So, a lobotomy?"

The scientist nodded grimly. "I'm afraid so."

His partner had also produced a clipboard from seemingly nowhere, and read off of it now. "The patient does show great intellectual promise, however. She can be taught, but due to her decreased attention span it would be like trying to teach a seven-year-old the string theory." It was supposed to be a joke, but no one laughed.

Dr. Gunther-Hagen looked up from where he'd been studying the patient bite the maker thoughtfully. "Now, have they gotten the results back from the DNA accelerator?"

The taller of the two scientists shook his head. "They are still on hold. Some files have been corrupted, and—"

"_What_ files?"

The scientist stopped speaking abruptly, turning to address a rather furious Anne. "I'm sorry, pardon?

"_What_. _Files?_" she ground out through clenched teeth.

The two neuroscientists exchanged a look. "Well," began the shorter of the two, "only a few of them were tampered with. Dr. Martinez's was among the _very_ few files we lost," he tried to assure.

"What else did we lose?" Anne demanded, her voice steely.

"The files from the…"

"Pardon?"

"The six files belonging to the subjects of the Angel Experiment," the taller scientist clarified, glowering at the hairless head of his partner.

Anne slammed her fist into the computer desk, causing everyone in the room to jump and Valencia to give a little yip of surprise.

Then the door of the lab opened, and in walked a tech, holding a disgruntled baby wearing the grey hospital gown and tiny shorts required for all experiments. Her tiny black wings poked out of the opening in the back of her shirt, and perceptive brown eyes examined the room.

"No one requested you," Anne barked. "Dismissed."

"Actually, Anne," Dr. Gunther-Hagen clarified, holding up a hand, "I asked him to bring the girl."

"And _why_ would that be?"

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "She is Valencia's granddaughter, is she not?"

"Yes, but I don't see—"

"Your precious Maximum grew up rather quickly, didn't she, mothering her 'flock'? Humor me in letting me see if the effects are the same with her mother." He waved a hand, and the tech brought the little girl over to a reverent Dr. Martinez.

Anne could only stand and watch, silently fuming that she hadn't thought of the idea herself.

"Hello there, sweetie pie," Valencia was whispering to the little girl, who was smiling and giggling, reaching with fists to clamp around her grandmother's fingers. "You look just like them, you know. You've got El's eyes—hers and Max's. Such lovely eyes… But sneaky you, whose nose is this?" She poked the little girl's nose, prompting her to give an adorable sneeze. "That's Fang's nose, I'd recognize it anywhere," Val confided, rocking side-to-side. "You look so much like him, a regular ol' Fanglette. And that's what you are, my little Lettie."

This prompted the newly-christened girl to tilt her head and utter her first word of the day. "Wen?"

Anne gave an exasperated look to the tech, jabbing her finger in the direction of the disgustingly sweet family reunion. "I've had enough of this."

"No." Dr. Gunther-Hagen held up a hand. He met the tech's eyes and shook his head. "Let them be."

"Ex_cuse_ me," Anne interjected, "but I am in _charge_ here—"

"While _I_ am the expert."

The doctor and the pseudo-FBI agent locked gazes, two opposing forces facing off for the first time.

"At this point, Valencia is a lost cause."

Anne nodded vigorously. "I understand this, so—"

"_But_," the doctor continued, "if you want to improve her memory _at all_, even the most _infinitesimal_ amount, you will let this girl stay here."

Anne sighed, checking her watch again. "You." She pointed a rigid finger at the tech. "You've been promoted. You're now Dr. Martinez's official caretaker." The young man's face flashed briefly before he composed it once more, nodding, his hands clasped behind his back. "I expect a report on my desk by midnight." She didn't have time to see his mouth open in protest, for she was already turning to Dr. Gunther-Hagen. "I have other meetings I must attend to. I'm sorry to have to leave to soon." The way she said it, however, told an entirely different story.

Anne spun on her heel and stalked out of the lab. As the door slammed shut behind her, she raised a hand to massage her temple.

_Lord, do I hate that man._

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"Would you be so kind and remove this blind fold? I do _work_ here, or have you forgotten?"

Anne snapped her fingers, and a tech yanked the blindfold off of her newest captive's head.

Phoebe Dinardo blinked, her dark eyes glinting from the single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. She glared at her captor as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. "Hello, Anne," she said coolly.

"Phoebe." The head of the building nodded in acknowledgement. It irked her that the woman wasn't afraid, or at least intimidated. Her disobedience probably stemmed from the fact that she had been an established force when Anne first entered the scene, only to surge through the ranks to her current position of near-absolute authority. Hell, Phoebe had been the one who _trained_ the School's current dictator.

"Where is he?"

The captive lifted a casual eyebrow, feigning innocence. It was a trick that never worked, but it always served to infuriate the captor. "He who?"

"Jeb," Anne hissed, not in the mood for games.

"You don't know?" Phoebe didn't bother to hide the shock on her face. _How can she _not_ know? Isn't he being so obvious?_

The stern woman clenched her hands together, cracking her knuckles. "He's… gone underground. We cannot trace his whereabouts."

Phoebe fell silent, considering this. She wasn't about to give him away—somewhere in her heart, she knew his twisted schemes were honest and true—but Anne had the resources, the time, and the money to make her talk. She'd go after Phoebe's sister.

"Why do you want him?" The woman asked instead.

"He'll know where the flock is, won't he?" Anne stood tall, looking down on her prisoner with hard eyes. She _needed_ this information. Lord, if Phoebe could tell her where they were, and she could bring that information back to the Director… maybe she'd be pardoned for letting Ella and the two avian hybrids escape the Institute.

Yet her subordinate just threw her head back and laughed. "You honestly think you need to go out and _look_ for them? Max has just gotten her memories back, and she's probably out looking for you right now! You took away her wings, Anne. She's not going to take this lightly. Plus, you have her mother and sister—"

"Just her mother," Anne muttered. "The sister and three other experiments escaped four days ago."

Phoebe shook her head, smiling sadly up at her superior. "Oh, Anne," she sighed, "you are in _such_ deep shit. The Director has to know, doesn't she? But does she know that the flock is back together, too?"

Anne strode forward and struck her, hard, across the cheek. Phoebe worked her jaw, looking down onto the cold cement floor.

"You've just been demoted, Ms. Dinardo," Anne sneered. "Welcome back to hell. I hope you enjoyed your vacation. No? Well, I can always ask _your sister_ how you fared."

She turned on her heel, walking up to the only door into—or out of—this little jail cell.

"Wait."

The scientist stopped, her hand on the door handle.

"Lake Mead. The flock should be there in a few days' time," Phoebe whispered, feeling bile rise up in her throat. _I'm sorry, Jeb, but Ana comes first._

Anne nodded, turning back to give her prisoner one last condescending smirk. "Let her go," she ordered the tech, who'd been standing silently in the corner throughout all of this. "Ms. Dinardo, welcome back to the force." Phoebe's head snapped up, her gaze brimming with loathing.

Anne just smiled even broader, throwing the door wide open and letting the stark-whiteness of the corridor splash into the room.

"Just remember: insubordination will always be dealt with."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Hmm, not sure how much I liked this last part (but I think we needed it). But hopefully you guys liked the Becca part? It's funny how much people say they like her. (Or, I only see it from a few people, but it feels like a lot compared to nothing.) Also, there is a LOT of stuff I've given you today, and you've got to have questions, right? So, REVIEW!

Also, I'm terribly sorry for being a slacker and stuff, but I've been re-re-mojo'ed. And I'm going to see this thing through until the end, mark my words. (Plus, the Muffin Match is still on. Muffins for anyone and everyone who reviews! I've got like 50 emails sitting in my inbox because I haven't recorded them yet, but… it's coming, I swear!)

Funny quote of the day: (from a birthday card) "Birthdays are like boogers. The more you have, the harder it is to breathe!"

That was random, but my brother is going to a party, so…

**Review Song Theme:** Hmm… how about your favorite obscure song. Like, something random, that nobody would ever have heard of. (Maybe something exclusively to Youtube, or something that had once been exclusively on Youtube.)

"**Duet With Myself" **by **Charlie McDonnell**. Yeah, I'm a total Charlieissocoollike fangirl. He's awesome, and hilarious, and he's BRITISH! Plus, this song is cool, since the video is him singing… with himself. (I love movie magic.) And it's cute. And it's Charlie. Always good. :)

"**4 Chords" **by **Axis of Awesome**. This is a song mash-up, where ALL of these popular songs from the last two decades use the EXACT same four chords. It's pretty awesome, seeing as I recognized a bunch of the song bits, but it's fun when everything molds together to make some sort of conglomerate song of awesomeness.

All right guys, I've got to get started on the next chapter. I want to try to get it to you by Friday, is that okay? (Maybe, while you're all looking forward to the weekend, you can look forward to an update, too?)

Your faithful author,

Lea


	12. 10: Dirty Little Secrets

**Disclaimer: I don't own Wal-Mart.**

**Curse Alert: Max and Fang get into another heated argument. (I didn't mean for it to happen, but they just kinda started dropping f-bombs, and I just typed it up. It's really not me, I swear!)**

**The theme song for this chapter is "Haunted" by Evanescence.**

**Big announcement in the A/N, guys. Please read.**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Indescribable**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

Rated T for language and violence.

They were together, again, and they didn't have any plans to be separated any time soon. She was back to hearing voices. He started to mimic once again. She found her voice, and she wasn't afraid to use it. In remembering how to see, he gained a voice of his own. She got her Voice back, and wasn't afraid to take charge. His voice kept her steady, and he reminded her to listen to those she looked after.

Those who had torn them apart—the ones who'd scorned them—are in for a brutal surprise. Their experiments are back, and ready to reclaim what is rightfully theirs. But, in the test of faith and endurance, can the rebels weather the storm?

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

**Chapter Ten: Dirty Little Secrets**

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

_Anne just smiled even broader, throwing the door wide open and letting the stark-whiteness of the corridor splash into the room._

"_Just remember: insubordination will always be dealt with."_

**Saturday, November 27****th****, 2010**

Fang woke in a cold sweat, his hands shaking and clammy. That face—that little girl…

_No. Way._

"Oh my gosh!" Angel squealed, spinning around and nearly clobbering her brother as she flew over the seat. She slammed into the leather, her eyes the size of dinner plates. "Are you _serious?_"

Fang shrugged, still shaken up. "What's going on?" Max called, followed swiftly by Ella's, "Is everything okay back there?"

"We're fine," Fang answered firmly, giving Angel the evil eye. _Just leave it, Angel_.

Nudge crossed her arms, glaring between the two with suspicious. She exchanged a glace with Gazzy. "What's up?" she asked casually, though there was steel in her voice.

Angel grinned and turned to her best friend.

_Angel—no!_ Fang demanded, just as the youngest member of the flock whispered into Nudge's ear.

Her eyes widened, brightening for a moment, then flaming when she rounded on Fang. "You—you—"

"There are children present," Angel muttered, poking Nudge in the shoulder.

"What's going on?" Gazzy demanded now, scowling at being the only one who was out of the loop.

Fang dropped his head in his hands. "It's really not like that. It might not even be _real_."

"Of course it is!" Angel retaliated fiercely, while Gazzy's eyes widened.

"Holy _cow!_"

"I know!" Nudge exclaimed, clenching her fists. "I just can't believe it! I mean, you guys—"

"Nudge," Fang snapped, glaring back at her and making her words halt. Even though she didn't like him anymore, Fang's glares were still scary, and still had the power to make her shut up. It really wasn't fair. "That _never_ happened. Ever."

"Then how?" Gazzy's face was confused, if anything. Angel tilted her head, too. "Yeah, Fang," she asked, honestly curious, "how _did_ that happen?"

He felt his face go pale. "Um…" Then he realized that she didn't actually mean _how_ in the general sense (_Thank God!_), but _how_ in the specific sense. "I'm not sure."

Angel frowned, mulling this over. She pursed her lips, something occurring to her. "You have to tell Max."

"Sorry, but no."

"Max _doesn't_ know?" Nudge's eyebrows were practically at her hairline, and her jaw dropped. "How—"

"I. Don't. _Know_," Fang growled, glaring now at Angel.

"But you _have_ to tell her, Fang!" she insisted, dropping her voice. The four of them leaned in instinctively. "She'd tell you, and you _know_ that. This is bigger than both of you, Fang. Whether or not it is real—and I'm _sure_ it is—then you just had a dream about _your daughter_. Max deserves to know."

His face ashen, Gazzy whispered, "You should tell her." He looked nauseas, cheeks tinged with green. "I mean…"

"Yeah," Fang sighed, nodding. "I get it."

Nudge narrowed her eyes in the perfect imitation of Max, then broke into a mischievous grin in the perfect imitation of Gazzy. "Oh _Ma-ax!_" she sing-songed, swiveling to face the front. "Fang has something to _tell_ you!"

He didn't even have to see her to know she was smirking. _The annoying, manipulative little bugger…_

Angel giggled, then turned to Gazzy, who snickered, too. He nodded once and she scrambled back into her seat, leaving Max's view clear to raise an eyebrow at Fang in the rear-view mirror. Wren was speaking in low tones to Angel and Total, while Jay, Ella, and Iggy were playing a three-player game of chopsticks. Nudge and Gazzy were sharing knowing grins, looking from Fang to Max.

_Everything all right?_ Max mouthed, quirking her head to the side.

_Yeah,_ he mouthed back. _I'll tell you later_.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"Okay, guys!" I called. It was about three hours after we'd stopped for breakfast, and we were all getting hungry again. Plus, Jay—the sweet little kid he was—was just about driving me up a wall with his barrage of Are-We-There-Yet's. "Break time!"

Jay cried out happily, and Nudge exclaimed, "Thank God!" and stretched her arms above her head, shoulders popping. Gaz winced at that, making a face at me in the rear-view mirror. I winked at him.

"Where are we going?" Iggy asked, and I turned a little to look at him. (The road was straight, don't worry.) "Because I think we need to get provisions. Food, first aid, clothes. Backpacks."

"Like the good ol' days?"

He beamed. "Of course."

"Here," Ella said decisively, rummaging around in the glove compartment and pulling out a pen and an old flyer for, um… an _interesting_ profession. (She took one look at it, gagged, and shoved it back, pulling out a Chinese take-out menu instead.) "Let's make a list."

"So, backpacks for everyone," I said, turning back to the road and scanning the signs for the next town.

"That's…" she paused, spinning, probably to count heads. "…Nine?" She scribbled something down on the menu.

"Excuse me?" From the sound of his voice, I just _knew_ that Total was indignant.

"Sorry, Total," Ella said gently, making me smile, "but we're not making you carry a backpack. You'll be uncomfortable when you fly, and we don't want that."

Hmm. Ella had some diplomacy in her. (Note to self: store that information for later use.) "She's right, Total," I added, in the same tone she'd used. "Now, what about first aid?"

Between me, Ella, and Iggy, we were able to come up with a pretty all-inclusive list of things for a first aid kit, consisting of items we knew were useful—like bandages in all types under the sun—and things we knew wouldn't actually help care for injured, but were nice to have anyway—like a flashlight, and blankets. Though we actually saw pretty well in the dark, and with Ig or Gaz we could have a fire going in minutes, sometimes the flashlights were just nice to have around.

"Cool," I said when we finished the list off. "So food now?"

"Granola bars," Iggy said immediately. "Crackers. Um…"

I slowed the van down to pull off the highway, making the turn swiftly, but _not_ on two wheels, thank you very much. Another traffic sign directed me to a town five miles away. _Good, we're getting close._ "Trail mix," I added.

Ella was nodding, jotting down as we listed travel food. "Water, of course."

"Peanut butter, for protein. And canned soup?" Wren spoke softly. She still felt uncomfortable with us, I knew, but that was a good suggestion. I told her so, and she gave me a small smile.

"Oh, sports drinks!" Nudge called out. "With electrolytes and stuff. Those are supposed to be good for emergency situations."

Everyone turned to look at her, raising eyebrows in various stages of incredulity. I wanted to laugh at the sheepish look on her face. "What?" she asked, looking around at us all. "I read something on the internet once."

"Dried fruit is good," Gazzy supplied, effectively bringing the spotlight off of Nudge.

"Yeah," I nodded, sensing his tactics. He gave me a toothy grin in return.

Fang spoke up from the back, his voice soft. "Canned vegetables."

I gave him a swift nod, quickly averting my gaze before anything else could be shared. He, Nudge, Angel, and Gazzy were hiding something. That conversation they had earlier, before we'd stopped for breakfast, worried me, just a little bit. But he _said_ he'd tell me. So, maybe it wasn't so bad.

But then again, maybe it was.

"And powdered milk, because milk is the bomb," Ella said, so seriously she couldn't have _possibly_ been kidding. I nearly snorted, while Iggy actually did.

"What?" she asked, and I just shook my head.

"Nothing. So, clothes. Because you, honey, need _something_ to wear," I told her in a fake-nasally voice, like on those TV shows I hated where they tell you how your wardrobe is so, _so_ last year. She giggled, looking down at her borrowed jacket—from Iggy—and thin, cotton shorts, but Wren frowned.

"Don't worry," I added hastily, "you're not exempt from proper attire, either."

"But—how will we pay you back?" Her frown deepened, and I suddenly understood where she was coming from.

"You're helping me get my mom," I said softly. "That's more than a fair trade for some descent clothing and a backpack."

She nodded, then her eyes focused on something in the road. "So, would that be a good place to stop?"

I flicked my eyes down to the road where, sure enough, as we were pulling into the semi-populated area, was a Super Wal-Mart. Across the street was a little park, and traipsing all over it were school-aged kids and toddlers, and moms pushing empty strollers or toting heavy diaper bags.

"Woot!" Gazzy crowed. "Wal-Mart!"

We all cracked up at that, poking fun at him until he blushed and started grumbling about it being a social injustice that a child couldn't get overly-excited about a discount department store.

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"Right, guys," I began, putting my hands on my hips. We all stood around in a little circle next to the van, in the middle of the Wal-Mart parking lot. "Ella's split up the list. We need clothes, food, and the makings of a first-aid kit, and someone needs to find us some backpacks. But we all don't need to go shopping." Honestly, the only reason I brought it up was because the park was a much more enticing option, for me, at least, than a big cement cube filled with a thousand people. "There's a park across the street that I don't mind hanging out at. So, who wants to go shopping?"

Nudge's hand immediately shot into the air, and she hooked her arm through Ella's. "We've got the clothes covered," she said with a grin, and then promptly ran around and checked all our shirt sizes.

"I'll go, too," Iggy volunteered, quickly followed by Gazzy scurrying over to his side before he could be pulled into Nudge's clothing expedition.

I smirked at my trooper and nodded. "Cool. So, Ange?" She was standing a little ways away from our circle, looking over at the park, her eyes sad.

She didn't look at me, but I could hear the longing in her voice. "I want to swing," she murmured. I walked over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. _Me, too, kiddo_, I thought to her.

"Okay, so Angel and I—"

"I suppose I have to go, too," Total sighed, trotting over to us and looking up at me, irritated. "This is why Paris is so much better than here," he grumbled.

I pat his head sympathetically and continued, "So Angel and Total and I are going to the park. Wren, Jay? What about you?"

Jay's face lit up. "Can I swing, too?" he asked, arms swamped by Gazzy's jacket, the back of which fluttered as he loosened his wings a bit.

Wren immediately pressed her brother's wings tight against his back, smoothing down the fabric gently. "Sure." Her words were soft, caring, and they shared a smile before Jay came up to stand with us, taking Angel's hand when she offered it. Wren's face flickered, a brief flash of something along the lines of betrayal, before she composed herself once more, face completely blank. _She could give Fang a run for his money_.

"Wren, do you want to come with us?" Nudge asked, smiling encouragingly. She held out her hand to the almost-flock-member. "You can help us find everything, and you'd really rather pick out your own clothes than let me do it." She blushed a bit. "I can get carried away sometimes."

Iggy rolled his eyes. "She's not kidding, Wren, we'll need the second leash. Seriously though, you should come with us. Nothing says 'initiation' like a Wal-Mart raid."

"Oh, shut up," I scoffed, punching him lightly in the shoulder.

Wren bit her lip, looking nervously between Jay and Nudge. Her brother gave a hesitant smile, nodding the smallest bit. She met my eyes, scanning them quickly, before turning back at Nudge. "Okay."

"Sweet!" My motor-mouth immediately dragged Ella over, and the three girls' voices dropped as they began to discuss the benefits of cotton to demin.

"What about Fang?" the Gasman asked, looking to where our ex-flock-member stood, leaning against the van.

"Oh, Fang is coming with us." I lifted an eyebrow when his furrowed, daring him to contradict me. "We have some… _things_ to talk about," I elaborated, though it was still rather vague. Fang's shoulders relaxed though, then tensed up again. _Oh yeah, you'd better be nervous._

Gazzy nodded knowingly, looking down at the ground. I saw him fight off a frown.

"Okay, guys," I said, shaking off the anxiety that was settling into my stomach, "you've got two hours, okay?" I tossed the Max Card to Nudge, whose face lit up like it was Christmas. "You remember the pin?" I asked her.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes like I was crazy. "Of _course_ I do."

Ella winked at me, snatching the card and stuffing it into her pocket. "Don't worry, Max. We'll be fine."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

"So," I began slowly, sitting down on the swing and hooking my arm around the chain, "what were you guys talking about earlier?"

Fang sighed and sat down on the woodchips next to me, leaning against the swing set frame. Angel and Jay were at the other end of the line of swings, laughing as they flew back and forth through the air. Total ran around them, barking like the psychotic dog he was supposed to be.

"It's really nothing you need to be worried about," Fang said after a pause, running a hand through his hair. He seemed to feel me glaring at him, since he glanced up, eyes flickering.

"We never had sex, did we?"

I tumbled forward onto the ground, my stomach in my throat. "_What?_" I sputtered, staring at him. "I mean—just—_what_?"

Fang kept his features composed and stoic, but his ears were turning red. "Never mind," he muttered, looking down at his grimy sneakers.

"No, _no_." I scooted next to him, giving his shoulder a few hard, rapid pokes until he looked back up at me. "This is _not_ a never mind, Fang. You can't just—can't _ask_ me that, out of the blue, and say never mind! You're so… so…" I groaned, utterly exasperated. "How could you even _forget_ something like that? You don't just _forget_… that! You don't. Or… I wouldn't." Somehow, my rant had turned into a mumble, and now I was staring at _my_ shoes, cheeks heating up.

"Oh."

I balked a little, shocked at the venom injected into that one word. "Oh?" I repeated, shooting Fang a shrewd glance. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, keeping his face infuriatingly blank. But his jaw was still tense, his eyes staring hard at the woodchips. "Obviously nothing important."

"Okay, moron, stop it." I punched him, none too lightly, in the shoulder. His stupid bad mood was stupidly infectious. I could feel my mouth turning down, my eyebrows knotting together, just by sitting there. "You're acting like a freaking _four-year-old_, with your vague answers. What's got you so pissed?"

"Like I don't have reason to be?" Fang shot back, eyes blazing. He stood up roughly, making his way across the park, in the direction of the street and the Wal-Mart.

"Hey!" I cried, chasing after him. "I still don't know what the problem is!"

"Obviously not."

"Look!" I grabbed his arm, wrenching us both to a stop. Taking hold of his shoulders so I knew I would get the message across, I told him, "Fang, you're not going to be apart of this flock if you keep hiding things and pretending like nothing is bothering you! I can't do a thing if you're not willing to ask for help. So will you _please_ just tell me what's going on?"

I would not admit that this was freaking me out, how off he was, how… _cold_ he was being. I would _not_. But I knew he could see it in my eyes.

Yet he kept on glaring. "I'm not the only one keeping secrets, your _highness_," he hissed, eyes glinting. "I don't have a _fucking_ daughter!"

He could have punched me in the stomach, and I don't think I could have been more, well, breathless. My arms fell to my sides, and I could only manage to stare up at him. "What are you talking about? How do you know about her?"

If it were at all possible, Fang became even more furious. "So it's _true_?" He snatched up my forearm, eyes blazing. Any sane person would be terrified of the pure, unfiltered fury steaming off of him, but my head was spinning and my vision had gone deceptively blurry. "Who's the lucky guy, huh, Max? What stupid guy fucked you up and let your baby get captured by fucking _whitecoats_?"

"You, stupid!" I exclaimed, shoving him in the chest. More stupid, useless tears pricked in the corners of my eyes. _Damn it!_ "But how the hell do you _know_?" There was a hit of hysteria in my voice, and I prayed to God he'd pick up on it. Because he wasn't supposed to know about her—our baby girl, if she even _was_ real. That was… I didn't know _what_ it was, but the fact that he knew about her _couldn't_ be good.

"You…" My ex seemed to be at a loss for words.

I cleared my throat, voice dropping to a whisper. I hadn't realized we'd been all-but shouting in each other's faces until now. "Fang, I don't have a daughter, or, I never… _had_ one. When I had my brain attack, I saw this picture of a girl with _my_ eyes and _your fucking face!_ So you'd _better_ not be all pissed at me for something that _I had no fucking idea about!_" My throat was stinging, and my eyes were burning, and I wiped my nose, sniffling like a baby. "I didn't know, Fang," I whispered, dropping my gaze. "I really didn't." _Damn, Max, focus! Stop acting like a blubbering idiot!_

Fang wrapped his arms tight around me, resting his chin on my head. I hoped it meant I was forgiven—for something I didn't even _do_, but still. "You saw her in a brain attack?" he whispered into my hair, making me shiver.

_God, he'll be the death of me_. If this was how we'd be fighting, I wasn't sure I wanted Fang back in the flock. "Fang," I mumbled, shoulders shaking just a bit, "how do _you_ know about her?"

There was no use denying it, not now. For some reason, the Voice had decided to instant-mind-message me a picture of our baby, and now Fang knew, too?

Something wasn't adding up.

"I… it's stupid." When I didn't reply, he sighed, bending his head down so his lips were against my ear. "I had a dream," he breathed, his voice sounding strangled. "We were in the School, in cages, and she was just there, in the cage next to yours. She was screaming, her little face all contorted…" He shuddered, and I pulled my arms tight around his shoulders. "…and I couldn't hear a thing. And you were looking at me like it was _my_ fault."

"How do you know it was the School?" I asked carefully. Something was definitely wrong. The way a cold feeling leaked into my bones when he spoke made me shiver. Fang didn't have premonitions—that was Angel's thing—so this, this was scary, uncalled for.

It was a warning.

"The combination locks on the cage doors. The Institute uses keypads."

I nodded, pulling back a bit, so I could look Fang straight in the eyes. "The whitecoats were experimenting," I breathed, because I didn't think it had actually been said yet. "They used… bits from _us_ to make a baby girl. We have a daughter. And someone wants to use her to get to us."

Fang nodded grimly, tightening his grip around my waist. "We've got a daughter."

I kinda wanted to puke, and I was sure I looked a little green. "Yeah, ha-ha."

"We'll get her out, Max," Fang whispered, brushing some hair out of my face. "What say, when we make camp at Lake Mead, you and I do a quick recon of the School? We'll look for your mom, for our baby, then make a real plan. It'll be something quick, snappy. In, out, and we're done."

I nodded, still feeling a little woosy, and _more_ than a little worried. "And we'll be out before they notice, and we'll have the upper hand."

"For once."

I knew he was trying to make a joke, the way his mouth twitched at the corners, but my heart just wasn't in it. "Right," I laughed drily. "For once."

**~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~**

*hangs head*

This is absolutely unacceptable. I apologize. When was the last time I updated? Over three weeks ago?

I'm a horrible person.

*sighs*

Okay, guys, here's the deal. I just can't focus on this anymore. I'm not invested in the story, and I just hate the way everything I write is turning out. (This chapter is crap, admit it.) So we're going on a hiatus.

It's only until the summer, though I'm uber-busy. (Summer school for 2 semesters—it's for Health and Consumer Ed, not because I'm a bad person.) And I'm taking Driver's Ed. (Which probably ages me where I don't want to be aged, but eh.)

I'm really, terribly, awfully sorry, but I can't write the story that you guys deserve. (And you deserve a pretty BA story for putting up with me through all of this.)

I just… I have to take a break for a while. I really am sorry.

Lots of Love,

Your faithful author,

Lea

PS. If you don't totally hate me and would still like to review, please point out something you think I need to work on for this. I've got the plot mostly-finished (it's seriously just pulling the characters together for the climax and then one final scene and boom, we're done), but I'd like some ideas of what I need to work on when I do come back around to this.

But I totally wouldn't blame you if you're too mad to review (though I will hate myself even more.)

So sorry.


	13. Executive Decision

**I've come to a decision.**

I'm starting over.

Here's the deal: I just can't see myself continuing with this story—the characters are not what I want, the plot is killing me and taking FOREVER, and I just hate how I've written this; the sentence structure is gouging my eyes out—and I've set myself for a three-story arc that I just can't finish at the mo. So I'm going all the way back to the beginning—that's right, Incredible is being scrapped.

Don't worry, I'm not taking it down. (For silly, selfish reasons, I love all the reviews I've gotten for it—numbers are numbers, heck—and there are a lot of critiques hidden down in there, too. But, basically, it's all numbers.)

This failed sequel is hereby discontinued, to be followed by my new-and-improved Story (untitled as of now). I'm going all the way back to the beginning folks, so give me some time to get my affairs in order.

BUT, I plan on getting my arse into gear and writing something I'm remotely satisfied with by the end of the month. Something nice, and long. I've been reading (read: fangirling over) _The Life And Times_ (M-rated, bloody-fantastic, Marauder's Era Harry Potter fic, ye be warned—seriously, tho, it's just spectacular, even when puppies die, because you KNOW where the story is going to end up, but it's HOW they get there that is so phenomenal) by Jules5, and it's been kinda reminding me why I fell in love with stories, and writing them, in the first place. So I've been working on tone, and character, and epic!plotlines, and just thinking a lot about how I want my writing style to be, and it's all been good, overall. And I've recently been reminding myself why I love the Max Ride characters so much, and I'm just _ready_ to get back into this.

As always, my apologies will never suffice for all of my dearly beloved and incredibly faithful readers. You guys are the peanut butter to jelly, the Oreos to my milk, and the Max to my Fang (when JP is all but screaming in our faces that Mylan is THISCLOSE to being canon, and I'm crying because _this cannot be happening, goddangit!_). I love you all so much—you're the reason I write—and I cannot be more sorry that I've just let this fall to the side.

And, once again, silly old Lea takes FOREVER to get the point:

Give me two weeks, and you'll have a revamped story in your inbox. You can either put me or this story on Alerts, and I will post informative notes accordingly.

Thank you for all your time and patience, and thank you for not deserting me.

Love and Hugs,

Your faithful author,

Lea

PS. I've written a short, 5-shot also in this fandom—entitled _Funny How These Things _Happen—centering around Fang (though 80% of it is Max's POV, but that's beside the point), and I'm working to get a post-Angel thing out that actually flashbacks to when Jeb left, and how that parallels Angel's presumed death; because it totally does in my head. It will explore all six flock-members' POVs, and hopefully should be good, even if it is more heavy. Also, I've got this post-Fang one-shot about promises which should be good. It's written in second person, because second person is cool.

Many thanks if you decide to check any of those out!

Love and Hugs one more time, because I can. ;)


	14. REVAMP IS UP

**The new story is up!**

It is entitled "A Thousand Ways to Break," and I apologize, but all I have is the (short) prologue.

Please go check it out, and I hope you like it! (Though it is so, so short...)

Lots of Love,

Lea


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